Brunch with Mutants: Redemption Road
by RemedyChill
Summary: Basically, the Kurt/Kitty from my X-Men: Evolution Fic 'It only hurts a little all the time' (read as a prequel) grow up to be the Kurt/Kitty of the eXcalibur comics, and the plotline resumes. Rating is to be safe. Finally finished. Please R/R and Enjoy!
1. Brunch with Mutants: The Future Begins

The X-Men and other X-Properties mentioned within this story belong respectfully to the rightful owners and not to me. This story is written for simple enjoyment purposes to be shown only to interested parties that seek it out. In our own defense, can we help it if the X and all it's facets are now subliminally impressed upon the universal psyche?  
  
Summary: Okay, so the Kurt and Kitty from my X-Men: Evolution fic 'It only hurts a little (all the time)' have grown up to become the Kurt and Kitty of the eXcalibur comics. And the story line resumes in flashbacks and dialog over orange juice.  
  
Brunch with Mutants By Remedy=Chill  
  
  
  
Kurt stretched out to his full, albeit diminutive, height.  
  
The sun had long since risen, although the English seaside refused to admit it, staying tucked beneath a thick blanket of clouds as though it had a hangover.  
  
Kurt was the leader of the Mutant team eXcalibur. Although on most days it was difficult to tell who ran the group due to Kurt's lax style of command. And furthermore, so far as a mutant team goes, it hosted more than it's fair share of aliens, enemies, and interdimentional fantasy creatures, on numerous occasions.  
  
Kurt felt himself smiling. That generally meant he was done with his stretching.  
  
He held the stretch a second longer just to be sure, and broke in to a wicked grin, admiring his view. It was hard for Kurt to believe that some people would never even set foot in a lighthouse, let alone know the pure joy of waking up every morning with a lighthouse view of the world.  
  
Kurt loved to watch the sea in the morning. It was as honest a thing as he believed could exist in this world; Just like a child. You knew when it was relaxed, when it was tense, when it was angry, and when it was too quiet and still for too long, you knew something must have pissed it off or hurt it's feelings, because it was up to something.  
  
Kurt admired honesty. It was a defense mechanism that sprang from one too many honesty shudders and gasps upon seeing him close up.  
  
Of course, it was a different age now than it was years ago, when it seemed that hiding would be a way of life, or waiting to die on some mission for Xavier as he always thought he would.  
  
The world had really opened up to him. He had seen more history unfold than he cared to admit. There had been no hiding recently. Not in a long time. His image was occasionally plastered all over the news, most of the time in a good way, and no one seemed to mind his looks all so much. Most everyone seems to understand.  
  
Sometimes he gets letters. The naughty adult kind from admirers.  
  
And Kurt had to lower his eyes from the view for a moment, feeling caught by the ocean, wearing his emotions on the surface, in the form of a gentle blush.  
  
But then Kurt regained his composure and took in the view for one last moment, breathing in deeply, as though the power and majesty of the ocean were in that breath, he turned to face his day.  
  
He trotted lightly down the spiral staircase on his way to the kitchen.  
  
And almost immediately he wished he hadn't.  
  
"Oh, Ki-tty. I'm so, so sorry." Kurt clapped his hand to his head. "I pro- missed I'd hel-p."  
  
For a moment Kitty was confused.  
  
She was disheveled to say the least. Her hair had once been tied back, but now the wild strands were evenly numbered with those that hung, almost mockingly, loose in the hair-tie.  
  
She carried the telltale dust and grime of the infamous eXcalibur crawl space.  
  
For those who do not know the story of the infamous eXcalibur crawl space, read on. The rest of you can skip ahead eight paragraphs.  
  
You see, once upon a time the lighthouse exploded. No one remembers when exactly, or to be precise, which time. As the lighthouse has in fact exploded, seemingly of it's own volition at times, on too many separate instances to count.  
  
But explode it did, and it left absolutely no where to put anything. All the salvage from the explosion was exposed to the elements. The Blackbird (on loan) needed to be unloaded or refueled before returning it, and the gas card had yet to be recovered.  
  
So Kurt unloaded the Jet and nailed the crates it contained to the top floor of the lighthouse in something like a strait line.  
  
He left a gap before the last crate, and filled this space with their now meager belongings and salvageable goods. He then covered this gap with a tarp and nailed it all down as tightly as he could.  
  
He called his contractor who by now understood reasonably well how not to ask questions, and then Kurt more than likely set about saving the world, or some other such activity that he finds similarly engrossing.  
  
The point being that he wasn't around when construction began. Or when construction proceeded. Nor had he arrived when mistakes were made, and walls went up. He did get home before they finished construction mind you, but he was probably really tired. And it wasn't for about three weeks after the construction ended, that he ever got around to wondering where those crates went.  
  
When in fact, that had gone no where at all. Instead, the workmen had simply walled around them on all sides. It was a little hard to tell, because they had reconstructed the floor with levels, which coincidentally was done to offset the crates!  
  
And so began the tedious process of cutting open each crate, emptying it, and proceeding down the line, crate to crate, until they were all empty. Theoretically, anyway. It never really seemed to get finished, largely due to the things that have been moved IN for storage and crippled any efforts at forward motion.  
  
"Oh. Right!" She gestured wildly with an uncapped bottle of spring water. "Tomorrow. You were supposed to help tomorrow. I just couldn't wait."  
  
"Couvent vait?" Kurt gave her an obvious raised eyebrow of suspicion.  
  
"Couldn't sleep." She admitted. "I've been up since four." She looked slightly embarrassed.  
  
"Bad dr-eams?" Kurt asked, feeling sympathetic.  
  
Kitty flushed. "No." She smiled slyly "The other kind."  
  
And Kurt flushed back.  
  
"Oh." He smiled despite himself. "I try to go BECK to b-ed for do-es."  
  
Kitty swatted at him. "Kurt! I can't believe you said that."  
  
Kurt jumped and smiled, enjoying the game. "So har y-ou goink to tell me abou-t it?" he chided, slipping bread in to the toaster and depressing the handle.  
  
"I will not." She announced rather resolutely.  
  
"Not ev-an if I mak-e eggs?" Kurt held up the frying pan temptingly.  
  
Kitty waffled. Eggs? Breakfast? It sounded awfully tempting. But in the end it was the quiet that won her over. A nice quiet breakfast? If he could pull that off, maybe he deserved the story. Not the truly embarrassing details, but the story? Maybe?  
  
"How about this, if you cook, we can discuss our dreams, I'll tell you mine if you tell me yours." She felt a bit like teasing "Provided your dreams are worth it."  
  
He cast her a disarmingly confident glance and cracked an egg.  
  
Kitty took off to shower before breakfast.  
  
She stepped out of the shower a moment later to the smell of kosher bacon and buttered toast. She wiped at the foggy mirror and looked herself in the eye. "How much do you plan to tell him?" Her reflection seemed to say.  
  
And try as she might, she had no answer. Because it was Kurt.  
  
She trusted Kurt with her life. More importantly, with her soul. She could be fighting anywhere, with anyone. She was one of Xavier's finest. But day in and day out this is where she chooses to be. And for one reason; Her faith in Kurt.  
  
Sure Xavier fights the good fight, and he cares, but he's hard to get close to. His mental discipline and his knowledge of human potential are carried in a heavy and intimidating gaze that he seems totally unaware of.  
  
Kurt on the other hand is. . . Cuddly.  
  
She shook her head. She had meant to say he was endearing. Personable and charming. Maybe a little cuddly too, but not a cuddly as he was. . . Noble, in a swashbuckling sense of the word.  
  
And he fights the good fight as well as anybody, anywhere.  
  
A part of Kitty didn't want to face him. Didn't want to talk about it. And he'd understand too, despite the eggs.  
  
And she knew she would anyway, no matter what kind of a mistake it was, because Kurt didn't mind mistakes. Xavier wanted a well-oiled machine with clearly labeled parts and some form of warranty against mistakes baring catastrophic developments. It was always a little too much pressure for Kitty.  
  
Kurt doesn't work like that. It's much more like Kurt owns a ship with a talented crew. He's just happy everyone's on board and looking to get through the storm. Most times you can't even tell he's the captain, because he's usually busy pitching in wherever he's needed, and letting his crew do their jobs.  
  
And for a moment Kitty wondered when she first knew there was something special about Kurt. And then she remembered something from her excursion through the crawl space.  
  
She pulled on a sweatshirt and shorts, toweled her hair, and headed off to grab a piece of history. "And then" She thought, "to breakfast!"  
  
"Remember this?" She asked, holding out a small sword in a red wooden scabbard.  
  
"Ach!" Kurt gasped and a lump caught in his throat. "I vorgot it was down there." He shook his head, taking it gingerly, and wiping at the dust.  
  
"Lo-gan gave me dis!" He smiled. It seemed like so long ago and yet he could still remember the smell of the oiled blade and the leather strap. He could still recall the sound it made the first time he drew it and the smug 'click' in made when it closed. "It vas his." He concluded.  
  
"It was?" Kitty found herself suddenly interested.  
  
"Yes." He said the word quickly. "He to-ld me dat he would te-ach at da skool, and instrucdt oders in da use of a blade, bu-t dat I vas mo-re dan dat. I vas his app-rentice, HEES stu-dant. And he vould on-ly teach one app- rentice da sord, ev-er."  
  
Kitty looked at the sword. It was short now for Kurt's frame, and maybe a little too big when he got it. She had realized that his weapons training classes with Wolverine were brutal but she had no idea. No one did. Logan never let them watch. And the one time he found them trying to peek? Kitty phased out of pure fear, right out through a wall, and left Bobby and Jubilee to take the heat.  
  
Neither one ever tried that again. "Come to think of it" She reasoned silently "it's quite possible that Jubilee's still mad about that."  
  
"Kurt. We never knew it was like that." It was part apology for snooping and part shame as a result of finally understanding the intrusion.  
  
"No one did." Kurt smiled and set the sword aside. "Do you vant to know how I graduated?"  
  
Kitty cocked her head to the side.  
  
"How my lessons ended?" He asked, smiling intimately, hoping up to sit on the kitchen counter next to his sword.  
  
"How?" She asked hesitantly.  
  
"He tried to kill me." He said as sincerely as possible. "I vas'nt even seven-teen."  
  
He smiled wickedly. Kurt didn't boast unless it was at least half in jest. This was just plain amazement on his part.  
  
"It vas a good ting I did it den, ven I vas dumb enough not to know how dangerous he vas." He rolled his R's as he spoke the word 'dangerous' and it made the hair on the back of Kitty's neck stand up.  
  
There might have been a kernel of truth in there somewhere, but Kitty knew better. Wolverine had most everybody beat hands down when it came to being a savage, and most everyone else when it came to relying on training and discipline. But she knew Kurt better than that. He could handle Wolverine. She'd seen him handle worse.  
  
"Good thing for him that fight isn't happening today." She said with a smile, swiping the plate with the bigger pile of eggs and making for the next room.  
  
Kurt smiled slyly until she had left the room, then uncovered a frying pan full of scrambled eggs and redoubled the amount on his plate, so he had more. He then recovered the pan and followed her to the next room.  
  
"So tell me ab-out dis dream." He laughed at her as he sat down the plate and seated himself behind it. Her eyes were darting from his pile of eggs to hers and back again. She seemed to be trying to calculate how much egg she had eaten and how much was left on her plate. She was probably forgetting to factor in the large lump of egg she had stuffed in her cheek.  
  
In a moment she resumed chewing and shook her head subtly side to side.  
  
And Kurt had a moment.  
  
It was one of those moments when a person looks back in time and is young again.  
  
He could see how he had always found her beautiful. All he needed was to see it when she had an awkward mouthful of scrambled egg, and he knew that he had been right all those years ago. She was beautiful, and shone like a light, all the time.  
  
And once he had the right eyes. He could see it anytime, just by looking. And somewhere inside a small knife turned. Things he had not felt in years suddenly pained him, just a little.  
  
She swallowed her egg and wiped at her mouth. "Kurt?" She took a long leisurely look at him as she tore her toast in to little pieces and ate it apiece at a time.  
  
He shook his head free of the micro-sleep that had him. "Sorry." He cast his eyes around the table, picked up a knife and began buttering more toast in mock distraction.  
  
"It's been a long time since you looked at me like that." Kitty had stopped eating and had pushed her plate off to the side. She leaned forward, over the table, lying her arms between them. She took his toast hand and made him put it down so she could hold it.  
  
Once upon a time his skin was alien to her. It's texture and feel were just too different from her own for her comfort. It embarrassed her. The memory still does.  
  
There was that one-day, the day Kurt picked the fight with Logan. She had held his hand that day. Gone out of her way to touch him, like he was a rock star or a celebrity.  
  
Was it then that she knew Kurt was special? Surely, she already suspected, if not knew.  
  
She would have kissed him that day. She wanted to kiss him. She had left him quite disappointed in herself. Absently muttering about being friends and being on the same team. When what she really wanted was to jump up and down, kiss him and hug him, and celebrate his victory like a friend and a team mate.  
  
And a thought struck her "That's exactly what we are now."  
  
Is it really possible that nothing has changed between them since that day?  
  
"I kind of, like it." She squeezed his hand a little. "When you look at me that way." She smiled as he swallowed his breakfast slowly "I forgot how much I like it, actually."  
  
"I vorgot how easy it vas." He smiled and she saw his large gold eyes relax around the edges as he again allowed himself to get lost in her as he had in his youth.  
  
Then she had seemed perfect to him for a million childish reasons.  
  
Now she seemed perfect for one: Because he truly knew her.  
  
"Kitty?" He was still unsure. Where had this come from?  
  
"I had a dream about you last night Kurt." She told him, holding his hand and staring him in the eye. "You know, the kind you like to stay in bed for."  
  
He brushed his plate aside and leaned in to hold both her hands with his. And yet he was having trouble believing what he was hearing.  
  
"And it got me to thinking Kurt, about a chance I didn't take once." She bit her lower lip playfully, feigning worry. "It's not too late? Is it Kurt?"  
  
Kurt shook his head, half rising from his seat when she leaned in and kissed him. In a moment her arms were around his neck and she was clinging to him.  
  
When the kiss finally ended Kurt looked her in the eye. "Ki-tty, vat does dis mean?"  
  
She pressed her finger to his lips "You're missing the spirit of the moment." She told him. "I did it because my life would be less by all accounts if I never. . ." She reached out and stroked his odd and angular face with her fingertips, not he back of her fingers as she had done so often before.  
  
"I ave regrets too." He told her. "I tr-ied to kiss you once."  
  
Her mind reached out. When could it have been?  
  
"Bach in skool." He dropped his eyes "Sco-tt cal-led you. Car-pool to da mall."  
  
He could see that she didn't remember.  
  
"It vas da first time you saw me avter Weapon's Training." He told her, and he watched the recognition register on her face.  
  
"Strike first and mean it." She remembered and repeated. "Oh, Kurt, it was too. . . Smooth!"  
  
Kurt was visibly shaken "Smoove?" He asked with an inquisitive eyebrow.  
  
"Do it again." She said, ducking in to the kitchen to grab the old sword.  
  
She handed it to him. "Do it again." She said. "I was standing here."  
  
A part of Kurt wanted to say that this was silly. That these kissing games could be potentially bad for their friendship.  
  
But he didn't. Some part of him was still there, standing in that hall, with a face full of ponytail.  
  
He considered the sword in his hand and then her.  
  
"I can see you un-der-stan-d about striking virst." He told her, advancing on her as he never had before.  
  
He put the sword on the table and hooked the front of her shorts with one thick finger, pulling her close.  
  
"But dis is how to mean it." He scooped her mouth with his and took her gently by the back of the head with one hand while wrapping the other around her supple waist.  
  
Her hands traveled over his solid form and up in to his hair. Dear God, what would she have done, if someone had kissed her like this in high school?  
  
And last nights dream returned in full force. Instead of being disturbing now, it made perfect sense. She knew exactly what she would have done if he had kissed her like this in High School. That truth had woken her in a sweat, with a racing heart, at three fifteen a.m.  
  
It had driven her to try to burn off that energy, to redirect her mind, hell, she even tried cleaning out the crawl space. But it was all for nothing.  
  
He eased away to consider her for a moment without letting go. "Dis idea, ex-pressing our veelings be-cause ve can."  
  
"Yes?" She wondered if he had found some logical loophole that would undo them.  
  
"Vhy don't ve try it ov-er nite and see if ve like it?"  
  
And he kissed her again, and cupping her close, he teleported.  
  
And the kiss continued there, more passionately and uninhibited, in front of Kurt's bedroom view, as the sea stretched out before them, rolling and swelling in time with the rhythms of life. 


	2. Brunch with Mutants: Redemption Road

Redemption Road  
  
"You're all a bunch of bastards." Kent told his so called friends coldly. "You had better be able to fix this later." He was staring in to the mirror, pulling at his face and hair in disbelief. "I pass out at a party and this is how I wake up?" He was just belaboring the point now.  
  
The group chuckled a bit.  
  
"Soon you'll have no such concerns." The smooth voice intoned. "Thanks to your favorable genetic structure, Temport," The voice paused to insure that the slower members of the group were keeping up. "You're all about to become very, very rich."  
  
And the owner of the voice pulled out a lumpy leather bag. It was faded, tan, and tiger-striped by dust that had settled in to it's folds and stained it. It looked as though it was a thousand years old.  
  
"I know you boys love your work," The voice continued. "And our contract specifies that you will receive the remaining amount owed to you when the job is finished." The voice was too smooth for Kent's taste. It reminded him of a snake, and the thing about most snakes is that while you're listening to them hiss, you're generally within striking distance.  
  
"However, as this plan has asked that you go," He eyed Kent "Above and beyond," Then he nodded to bring everyone's attention in line with his. "I thought something of a bonus might be in order."  
  
He emptied the contents of the small worn sack in to his hand, cupped so as not to reveal them too soon, and to let the metallic clinks of coin on coin bring silence to the room. Once everyone had edged closer or otherwise given him their undivided attention he took the top three coins between his thumb and forefinger and extended them to Kent; also known as Temport.  
  
Kent hesitated for a moment. It was no secret that he didn't like this client, but it was something more. This man was not your garden-variety psychotic. Most people can only get so demented in a lifetime. Dementia is a difficult thing to cultivate to the point of manipulating world affairs, when you're not a politician.  
  
Kent reached out slowly, using the pace to voice his displeasure with their 'prank' and his continued commitment to the job at hand.  
  
The man smiled. It was a perfectly ordinary smile from a seemingly ordinary man. Kent's blood began to pump cold and he felt the initial quiver of an adrenaline rush.  
  
He drew the coins back and pocketed them without looking.  
  
The room still encased in an icy silence; he met the eyes of crowd, one by one, and left the room.  
  
"Whew." The largest man in the room had broken the silence. He stood up and extended his hand toward the ordinary man. "You ever do ANYTHING like that to me," The thick-necked man said to everyone in the room "And I'll get real damn inventive in my revenge."  
  
They didn't seem to understand what he meant, except perhaps the ordinary man with the smooth voice. He dropped two large gold coins in to the large square hand in front of him.  
  
"There are some things with knives that I'd love to try." The large man nodded in agreement with himself "And I've always wanted to explore the inner workings of the body and brain."  
  
It was meant as a threat, the worst one that Sorespot could imagine. He had no idea when he said it that he would receive only one reply from a group as mouthy as this.  
  
"Then you should drop by my place some time." The ordinary man smiled. "I've always got someone who needs dissecting."  
  
And the group recoiled from him instinctually. The statement had the ring of truth about it.  
  
"Maybe." Sorespot backed away, clutching his coins.  
  
"Gimme." Blockage held out her hand. She was the youngest of the group and perhaps the most naïve. Still, something inside her made her stop approaching this client just a tad too soon, and as a result he had to step closer to her to hand her the coins. She as well received two coins.  
  
"Temp got three." She told the man.  
  
"He's done more for me lately." The man replied in a hiss.  
  
She covered her sudden fear with a smug 'is that so?' expression and stepped back, clinking the coins in her hand nervously.  
  
The man turned and looked to the corner. Misshapen and alone there sat a mutant man, absently preening his feathers.  
  
"Numbskull." The ordinary man called.  
  
The birdman turned his head in the direction of the group, as though noticing them for the first time, and cawed loudly.  
  
A small smile played about the ordinary man's lips before he flipped one of the large gold coins toward Numbskull.  
  
Numbskull cawed again in delight, caught the coin in his mouth, and swallowed it whole before returning his attention back to his feathers.  
  
Blockage and Sorespot exchanged questioning glances before turning away in disgust.  
  
"Do be prompt tomorrow." The ordinary man added over his shoulder as he was leaving. "It's not every day that the X-Men go back in time."  
  
Outside the door however, the man no longer appeared so ordinary. His skin clouded to the color of the naked moon and dark rings emerged from under his eyes. His smile was now pointed and menacing. No truer words were ever spoken than to say this man was Sinister.  
  
"I don't like that guy." Blockage shook her head.  
  
"I bet you like his money just fine." Sorespot smiled ruefully and walked away, leaving her mostly alone.  
  
  
  
Meanwhile back at the lighthouse, Kurt was admiring his ocean view from his bathrobe. Kitty was sleeping, tangled somewhere within the blankets on the bed behind him.  
  
He had been almost all for the newfound spirit of honest expression. He certainly allowed himself to be swept along with it quite on purpose.  
  
It wasn't until after Kitty fell asleep that the first doubt occurred to Kurt. Not for any real or rational reason. Those doubts were to come later as he dwelled on the situation. The first doubt came because he couldn't sleep.  
  
How could he not fall contentedly to sleep beside her? In his own bed no less. There was a time when the simple act of sleeping that near to her would have been rapture to him. But they had both grown since then. They were different people now.  
  
He cast his eyes to the bed, watching the blankets rise and fall in time with her breathing. Were they really all that different? The years had been kind to them both. Far kinder than Kurt ever expected them to be. Of course there were obstacles and losses, but every life has those.  
  
Kurt wished it were all as clear as it had seemed this morning.  
  
He turned his attention back out toward the ocean.  
  
Slow moving boats dotted the distant horizon. He watched them crawl across his ocean sunset. The morning cloud cover had burnt off at some point during the day.  
  
"So dot God could paint dis." Kurt thought.  
  
The sun had dipped low and seemed to be touching its reflection in the water. The sun itself was an explosive shade of orange, yet it managed to paint the water and some distant clouds in all manner of brilliant bands of color.  
  
The soft purple color that played on the waves was Kurt's favorite. Anyone less familiar with the area might have missed the subtle purple that tonight brought him, but not Kurt. He knew his ocean well.  
  
"If only I knew my heart dis vell."  
  
Something inside had been nagging at him. He felt that there was something he was supposed to know. Something he should have realized by now. But what could it be?  
  
He was at a loss. 


	3. Brunch with Mutants: The Past Returns

Kitty stood admiring the dark water below. The moon's reflection shimmered and danced before her. Kurt snored lightly.  
  
How long had it been since he had awakened her? Since he had begun to over- think and analyze everything? And since he slowly wore away his own argument, as though it couldn't stand the light of her waking scrutiny. Had it been mere hours ago that he had surrendered himself, announcing that he didn't care how wrong it might be, and taken her again to his bed?  
  
Had he stood in this same spot and had these same doubts?  
  
And yet she knew that if she were to go and awaken him, they would dissolve and leave her helpless once again in his arms.  
  
She turned away from the night sky and quietly slipped down the spiral stairs.  
  
Closing all the appropriate doors to insure her silence, Kitty sat down at the communications display and dialed the mansion. Secretly she hoped that Jean or Hank might answer. In reality she wanted to talk to Wolverine but he rarely (if ever) answered the comm.  
  
The image blinked to life. It was Cyclops.  
  
"Scott, How are you?" Kitty held a calm pose but felt a knife twist inside her gut. If Scott was answering then he was probably brooding over a command decision. Small chores seem to help him forget he's working through his issues.  
  
"Kitty." He seemed genuinely surprised. "I was just about to call you. How are you?"  
  
"Fine Scott, really." She bit her lip "Why were you calling?"  
  
"We have a situation over here Kitty. I believe it concerns you and Kurt." Scott looked suddenly uncomfortable beneath his poker face. "Storm is en route with the Blackbird. We dispatched her earlier when things looked a little grimmer. She will arrive in roughly twenty-eight minutes."  
  
Roughly, right. "We're the only two here Scott, do you need us both?"  
  
Scott grimaced but perhaps sensed something was amiss. "We can get by with just one of you for now." He seemed to narrow his eyes under his visor. "If that's best." He seemed to look for just the right words. "Kitty, we're not real sure about this situation yet, but if it turns out to be presenting itself at face value, it's not something either of you should miss."  
  
This time it was Kitty's turn to pause. Something hung in the air between them but she was unable to put her finger on just what it was. "We'll both come if that's what you think is best." She said softly.  
  
Scott nodded once affirmatively. "Cyclops out." He moved and keyed a switch, and his image vanished from the screen.  
  
The last thing she wanted to do was to fall back under Kurt's spell in front of everyone they know. Not when they would all be so understanding and accepting. Not while she still had doubts.  
  
She slid the door open and almost collided with Kurt as she stepped out. Kitty let out a stifled gasp and put her hand to her chest. She smiled at him and he smiled back.  
  
"I didn't mean to ease-drop." He shrugged sheepishly. "But I vas tinking; Maybe you should go. It vould give us time to think." He smiled more fully. "Although I don't veel like I need any time to think right now."  
  
He sauntered towards her, taking her by the arm and walking her back through the house. "It's up to you." He said, patting her arm and showering her with loving admiration.  
  
"I don't feel like I have anything to think about either Kurt." She bit her lip. "I think I'm just insecure. Maybe because it's all so new." She laid a hand on his arm and stroked his velvet fur. "So I'm going, and I'm going to think my fill and figure out my doubts." She smiled up in to his eyes. "So that we can get beyond them together."  
  
She split her fingers in a Vulcan salute and meshed her five fingers with his three. He raised his other hand, which she then took in the same fashion. She drew him in close, keeping her arms at her sides and kissed him.  
  
"Come on." She said, leading him towards her room. "I need to shower and change."  
  
Kurt grinned slyly and wickedly. Kitty pulled him in to the room and let go of his hand. She put her fists on her hips and stuck her face in his "You're packing me a uniform, the three pairs of black shoes in the bottom- front of my closet, two pair of jeans, two tee-shirts from my middle drawer, and the blouse I left hanging on the closet door."  
  
With that she turned, took three steps in to the bathroom and closed the door between them.  
  
Kurt smiled after her and pulled her small suitcase out from under her bed. After a moment he heard the shower curtain draw closed. "Yes dear." He thought mockingly.  
  
The shower began to spray en force. He stopped packing and slipped up to the door. He turned the knob slowly and quietly.  
  
As he eased the door open he could see that the mirror was already fogging over and the bathroom was filling with steam. He reached in quickly and snatched the only towel in the room up and off it's rack. Then he quietly closed the door as Kitty began to hum softly to herself, unaware of his intrusion.  
  
He finished her packing quickly and efficiently, even remembering to include socks, underwear, hair ties and a belt. He left the case open on the bed so that she could survey the contents and revise as needed.  
  
Then the water stopped.  
  
"Kurt!" She called out.  
  
Kurt waited a moment and smiled to himself. He eyed the tinfoil package he had brought from the kitchen.  
  
"Kurt! I need a towel!" She called again, perhaps more desperately this time, half imagining herself naked and screaming when Storm arrives.  
  
Kurt opened the foil quickly and steam escaped around him. He unfolded the large towel he had heated in the oven and swept in to the bathroom with it.  
  
And not a moment too soon. Kitty was beginning to tremble, even in the still warm room. He slung the towel around her, and the moment she felt it's dry warm embrace she melted in to it and allowed Kurt to hold her for a moment.  
  
"I'm half afraid to let you leave like this." Kurt told her, showing his own doubt and insecurity.  
  
"You're right. I should get dressed." She smiled at him. Her smile always seemed to comfort Kurt. As a young boy he thought it had shone like the sun. He said this as a boy who was afraid to stand in the sun. Afraid of the looks, the stares and the accusations behind the quiet smiles or gasps of passers by.  
  
Kurt could not bring himself to worry in that vein another minute. He drank in her smile as he did his view every morning and he swelled with a warmth and love more mysterious and majestic than the sea. He felt himself smiling oddly as she pulled the belt out of her suitcase and threw it on the bed. She zipped up the bag and turned to face Kurt.  
  
"If you vanted to surprise me ven you got back you could vear the black lace thing I put in the pocket ov your bag." He almost smirked as she registered the words. Too quickly for her to object, Kurt stepped in and wrapped his arms around her.  
  
"Good-bye Kitty." Kurt kissed her deeply and passionately.  
  
When they broke Kitty lay her hand on Kurt's chest. She could feel his heartbeat and the abnormal warmth of his thick skin.  
  
"Good-bye Kurt." She bit her lip, then stood on tiptoe to kiss him softly on the cheek. "I'll call you to let you know when we get there, once I know what it's all about."  
  
"Send for me if you must, but take your time on our personal matters." Kurt smiled wistfully.  
  
A moment later the Blackbird was landing. Kitty took off on a run as it was coming down. As it touched down she leapt through the bulked. After a long moment of hesitation the plane rose in to the air again, although it was unclear if it was Ororo's piloting skills or her weather mastery that executed the maneuver.  
  
Kurt turned and stalked back in to the lighthouse. It seemed vast and empty to him now. He understood that every team needs it's personal time. When everyone wanted to take a vacation he was more than willing to let everyone go about their business and find some personal relief and release. He was sure enough that he had found some, to be sure. Or maybe it had found him. It was hard to say.  
  
Something nagged at him. Was there something he was supposed to do now that Kitty was gone?  
  
That thought seemed for a moment to smother him like heavy blankets when you're young and sick.  
  
Was there something he was supposed to do? He looked around the living area. It all looked appropriate. He passed through the kitchen. Dishes done, counter clean, food's put away, nothing out of place.  
  
He stepped in to the next room and his eyes fell upon his sword. It was dusty and perhaps there were some faint signs of mold dotted about the scabbard.  
  
"Ach." He thought as he looked at it.  
  
He carried it to the kitchen and found a sponge and wood cleaner. He held the sponge over the sink and doused it with the cleanser. He then took to cleaning the scabbard and inspecting his work slowly, inch by inch. He remembered several of the more blatant scuffs along the bottom of the scabbard when he didn't quite stand tall enough to carry it properly.  
  
The wood recovered quickly and in just a few moments it was a bright and shining beacon of the past. Kurt looked through the cabinets until he found some oil. He pulled the sword from its scabbard and examined the blade. It had been well protected. The two part metal cuff that held the sword closed when it was sheathed needed attention.  
  
Kurt found a rag for the oil and wiped the fitting clean. For good measure he wiped down the blade re-sheathed it.  
  
Kurt remembered the first time he had held that sword. When Wolverine took that three-day trip up in to Canada and on the very day he came back he told Kurt he was getting his sword out of storage to give to Kurt. And how Kurt had to wait until the next day to begin his training but Wolverine had given him the sword, taught him how to hold it properly, and told him to do so until it was second nature.  
  
Kurt remembered how he would rise 15 minutes early, when he was assured some privacy, just to practice the holding stance so that it became a part of him. He remembered thinking that he would carry it forever. And in a way he has. He still owns it. And barring some cataclysm he'll probably own it forever. It was a badge of honor and honesty that had been bestowed upon him at a trying time. It was also a symbol of self-control and skill, a reminder that he was mastering all the things he had feared.  
  
"Feared?" He thought to himself. The word searched through his mind looking for something to connect with. Didn't his fear have something to do with what he was supposed to be doing? How could that be?  
  
He paused briefly to consider. What had he been afraid of when he was young?  
  
Discovery, most of all. He lived in disguise and a fear of discovery. He couldn't blend in like the others. He was exposed, all of the time.  
  
"But later than that." He told himself "That fear died a long time ago."  
  
And his mind stretched out again. "Evil." It told him. "You were afraid you were evil."  
  
It was all too true. The thoughts flooded back to him. He had been hiding his prowess and his strength. He had been outdistancing the other students in secret while clowning his way through his daily activities. He became suspect of his own motives at the time. Was he afraid to appear dangerous, knowing he was wrapped in a stereotypically evil package? Or was he just as he appeared, evil and deceptive.  
  
And so it was that he had challenged his instructor Wolverine to a danger room battle. And it was in that battle that Wolverine first saw Kurt's true potential. And he no longer feared that he was deceptive because the truth was now known.  
  
He remembered how the mirror portrayed him as more and more honest over the years. How pushing his limits and overcoming them had the wonderful bonus of liking what you see in the mirror. In fact, Kurt now felt as far removed from demonic reference as he had ever felt. The world understands mutants and accepts them, mostly. England was good to him. Content of character was occasionally allowed to speak volumes. And elves are largely considered non- threatening.  
  
Kurt dropped his eyes to the sword in his hands. Wasn't there something he was supposed to do?  
  
He wracked his brain for a moment and shrugged. Surely it would come to him.  
  
He quickly cleaned up the kitchen and picked up his sword.  
  
Wasn't there something he was supposed to do with Wolverine's sword? Did that make any sense? How could it be? Kitty only found it by accident.  
  
And he had done it. Found himself thinking of Kitty almost immediately after she left. He had promised himself that he was not going to dwell on what he couldn't affect at the moment.  
  
And suddenly he pulled his sword out of the sheath and began to run his old workout routine; the one that Wolverine had taught him so many years ago. He was halfway through it when he noticed that he was chanting softly to himself with every slice or strike of the sword.  
  
He had to listen to himself for a moment to determine what it was that he was saying.  
  
Over and over again he heard himself sing: "Pretty, Kitty, Pretty, Kitty." And slowly he began to fade away in to the distance. He was no longer connected to his body; rather he swam in a sea of darkness, in the back of his own mind, where he was aware of nothing external.  
  
The front of his mind was now however occupied by a frenzied and excited essence.  
  
Once upon a time Kurt accepted the possibility of being evil. And that possibility haunted his dreams. It begged to know the limits and goals of an evil nature. Of course he never acted on it. But there had been nightmares where these concepts took center stage. They had been more intense, realistic and memorable than any of his other dreams had ever been.  
  
They had been horrible.  
  
Kurt had dreamed himself to be the actual historical basis for the entity known as the Devil.  
  
He had seen himself gone mad with advanced age and the emotional damage of living beyond one's years.  
  
It had been years since he had been afraid that he would cross the line from the good fight of defending the innocent and helpless to the evil of acts of punishing the guilty. Experience has always told him that he errs on the side of caution.  
  
Years since his limits and boundaries had seemed threatening. But now those boundaries and limits were of no use to him. His doubt concerning his recent relationship with Kitty made room for the doubts of old to return.  
  
Under any normal circumstance he would have brushed these thoughts aside, and certainly he never would have lost consciousness, were he not being manipulated by a scheme of Sinister origin.  
  
"Pretty, Kitty, Pretty, Kitty, Oh so smart and oh so Witty. Please be my first, my number one, Kiss and Kill, Oh, so much fun!" And the mad impostor swung Kurt's sword above Kurt's head with Kurt's arm, and began laughing madly to himself until he could control it no longer and dropped the sword to hold himself as he rolled back and forth on the floor.  
  
How could he forget what it was he had to do? And with such a clue as Wolverine's sword? How could he not know that he had to kill his friends? 


	4. Brunch with Mutants: Growing Up Fast

The Blackbird streaked through the sky toward Westchester. Kitty watched the clouds part in front of the supersonic stealth machine. It was almost hypnotic. It was several moments before she realized that in addition to flying the plane, Storm was also looking at her.  
  
"You're glowing Kitty." She said at last.  
  
Kitty went two shades of deep red, one right after the other. Somehow she felt like a schoolgirl again.  
  
"I had a date." She smiled "Earlier."  
  
Storm seemed to consider this for a moment.  
  
"What?" Kitty finally prodded, after seeing that Storm was obviously not about to volunteer anything.  
  
"What did Scot tell you?" Storm spoke quietly, in a voice most often reserved for intimacy or conspiracy.  
  
"His usual." Kitty found herself speaking in a similar tone "Nothing extraordinary over visual lines. . ." Kitty let her voice trail off.  
  
"Without pressing circumstance." Storm finished for her. It was one of Scott's ten rules of communications, which he treated like his own personal Ten Commandments. "Shit."  
  
Kitty's eyes opened wide in disbelief. Did she just hear that right?  
  
Storm saw her expression and laughed. "I'm not a full time Goddess any more." She explained.  
  
"What is going on then?" Kitty fell back against the chair absently rubbing the bridge of her nose with her eyes closed.  
  
"Yesterday," Storm began "Two people showed up at the mansion. They were in need of medical attention and we aided them. They are still there, one still recovering, and the other at his side."  
  
Kitty listened intently. Storm was not speaking as the Goddess now, rather as a leader. This was a debriefing.  
  
"They claim to be time travelers. A claim many at the mansion find to be suspect. Above and beyond that they also claim to be X-Men, albeit from the same suspect future. They claim to have come to the past with two other members of their X-Men, at least one of whom then betrayed their mission and attacked them."  
  
Kitty licked her lips nervously. She didn't like the direction this was going.  
  
"More over, they claim that the X-Men of the future are nothing more than mercenaries for hire with minimal information about their objectives."  
  
Kitty interrupted "What does Jean say? Has she peeked in yet?"  
  
"She can't. The girl goes by the name Blockage. She's a telepathic proximity 'jammer'. The Professor can't even detect her mentally." Storm let that sink in for a moment. "The other one's been in and out of consciousness enough to avoid psi-scan's when his friend isn't around."  
  
Storm drew back on the controls and the Blackbird began climbing through the clouds until they emerged above them. After a moment they began to level out.  
  
"So why does anyone think that Kurt or I could help?" Kitty wasn't sure she wanted to hear the answer. Bishop once told her the story of how he traveled back in time to prevent his future and ended up living through twenty years of horrific alternate history he called the Age of Apocalypse before being once again shunted back to the here and now.  
  
It gave her the worst headache she had ever had.  
  
"Blockage claims that you and Kurt are future acquaintances of her wounded friend."  
  
"So how am I supposed to help?" Much to her delight she had no headache at all.  
  
"We're not sure you can. When I originally set out tonight the boy was in critical condition. Kent, the boy, had been very viciously attacked by someone who obviously did not care if he lived or not. We thought that any chance we had to clear this up would come too late to matter."  
  
Kitty could see for the first time how tired Storm really was.  
  
Storm continued "Of course there are things Hank can do to confirm or discredit their story. Temporal residue scans, radioactive half-life comparisons, DNA comparisons." Storm yawned big and pulled one hand up to cover her mouth. "Excuse me." She blinked several times to clear her vision.  
  
"But Hank's been taking care of the wounded boy, hasn't he?" Kitty asked.  
  
Storm nodded twice and yawned again. "Sorry." She said.  
  
"No problem." Kitty turned to face front again. In the distance she saw the faint, familiar twinkle of Westchester County.  
  
The Blackbird descended gracefully and masterfully down over the coastline. And rocketed past the cliff face to touch down on the runway covertly hidden beneath the mansion.  
  
Scott was waiting to greet them.  
  
"I can't believe Jean's not here to do this!" Storm let her emotions slip ever so slightly. She looked to Kitty apologetically. "Better you hear it from me than from Scott." She hesitated just a moment as she searched for a place to begin. "The boy, Kent. He looks like Kurt. A lot like Kurt. They claim that he's Kurt's son Kitty. From the future, Kurt and your son!"  
  
Kitty felt an emotional jolt run through her. It felt like an ice-water shower on a hot day. She became aware that Storm had taken her hands to steady her and had continued speaking although the words were lost now in an overpowering high pitched whine that seemed to drown out the world.  
  
Kitty tried to focus on Storm. Her lips were moving. So Kitty fought to hear her, straining to get a grip on her own senses. But it was no use. Her mind and body were reacting to Storm as the source of this unprecedented trauma.  
  
It was Scott's hand falling upon her shoulder and turning Kitty to face him that finally caused her senses to 'snap' back in to a functioning mode.  
  
"Kitty." He was saying it again. "Are you?"  
  
But she stopped him. "Fine. Now. Just." But she wasn't quite fine just yet. She looked around for a chair and not finding one she settled for a toolbox.  
  
"Just for a minute." Kitty took a few slow, deep breaths. This story was, after all, suspect. There was no reason to just go about believing any old possibility to be fact.  
  
"Hank's finished his DNA profiling. It's a perfect match." Scott extended the folder he had been holding and after seeing that Kitty wasn't about to take it from him, he retracted his arm awkwardly and smiled at her.  
  
"Of course, my time-traveling children come from farther in the future." Scott let the absurdity of the statement sink in. "And most of them are older than me." Scott saw her respond to the humor and the comfort of a reliable friend with first hand experience. "The trick is to try to deal with them in a very linear fashion, just one moment after the next."  
  
Kitty was listening intently.  
  
"Because if you screw that up the only other choice is more time travel." Scott let the words roll out quickly and added an element of distrust to the words 'time travel'.  
  
Kitty smiled in appreciation. She had never known Scott to be this insightful.  
  
"Thank you Scott. I'll go see the Professor now. Is he?" But she couldn't bring herself to ask.  
  
"In the infirmary." Scott nodded "With your son."  
  
And Kitty turned nervously, timidly, but quite deliberately toward her son and walked away.  
  
"Scott." Storm shook her head. "That was amazing."  
  
Scott looked distractedly after Kitty. "Hmm? Oh, right. That was Jean." He tapped his temple "Psychic link and all."  
  
"Where is she then? Why didn't she come and meet us herself?" Storm was certain that Jean would not have missed this.  
  
"Ah, she's not, ah, feeling. . ." Scott shrugged "We ordered in Mexican." He shook his head dismissively and walked away. 


	5. Brunch with Mutants: Homefires Burning

Kurt drifted in a sea of infinite blackness. Occasionally he would feel flutters of lucid thought and awareness only to find them swallowed up again, almost as quickly as they occurred, by the numb and forgetful darkness.  
  
A mental inversion had taken place, supplanting Kurt's own personality with the literal Devil of Kurt's childhood nightmares (See "It only hurts a little all the time" by the same author). His nightmares had told him that in the future he was destined to undergo a mutagenic treatment to extend his life and then to be transported in to the distant past. From there he was to age forward again to the present day, mutating and losing his mind steadily along the way.  
  
His nightmares had told him that he WAS the Devil of myth, scripture and legend. The one and only.  
  
While awake he had written it off to a fear of his own strength in a time when he measured his strength by comparison in a classroom and not through the standard of achieving ever higher levels of personal achievement.  
  
But in that time, when this was merely nightmare and naïve fear, it was also overwhelming and threatening on all available emotional levels. It had taken years of friendship and trust for Kurt to finally reveal such a nightmare to Wolverine in its entirety. He had spaced out the most gruesome details, sometimes years apart in the telling, as it would have hurt Kurt too much to duplicate such a personal horror so completely at any one time.  
  
And although he did finally disclose all the details to Logan, he had made him swear never to divulge a word or speak a syllable of the narrative. However, he had never explained how good it had felt to be Evil. He had remembered that quite fully. When he was doing evil deeds in these dreams HE FELT WONDERFUL! The Evil itself and the action's he committed FELT WONDERFUL!  
  
While sleeping, every longing and desire for a monastic life of dedication that Kurt had ever felt were answered and rewarded through the act of worshipping his own indulgence and dementia. Truly, in those dreams Evil was his salvation, his art, his muse, his God, his path and his cross. A strange new emotion had ruled his dreaming self. It was a mixture of deep personal intimacy and satisfaction coupled with or resulting from a total detachment from emotional investment that kept him in a constant state of amusement no matter what atrocity he was engaged in.  
  
And after a lifetime of confinement and subservience to Kurt's more altruistic pursuits, the Demon had been let out to play.  
  
At first the demon 'Kurt' had merely immersed itself in the wonders of being free and alive. He had done back-flips in the living room and crept the walls like a lizard. He took great delight in crouching in the shadows and waiting in a menacing fashion. Occasionally he threatened the furniture and the ceiling; He knew where they lived.  
  
Sometimes he would find himself insulted, as he was by the view from his bedroom. For just a moment he had believed that there was no glass in his windows and that the sea was bowing in silence before him. And insult became outrage. The great windows broke, tore and shattered before the freshly oiled blade before finally collapsing under their own weight and crashing down like an ocean of diamonds upon the outer rim of the room.  
  
And Kurt stood before the great crystal downpour. His arms were extended out to the sides as though welcoming the adoration of millions. His sword was clenched firmly in his hand, so that he might kill those millions, now, while they still worship purely, should any dare to foolishly venture too near.  
  
And the roar of the ocean filled the room in a great violent wave of sound. And Kurt knew in his heart that he had made the ocean scream. He threw back his head, raised his arms in a 'V' and reveled in wicked victory. He smiled at that ocean, threateningly and mockingly. "Scream on." He told it. "Because ven I he-ar you stop screaming," He licked his lips in anticipation "Den I come for you." He let the words roll out in a serious, smooth tone. Then, to demonstrate his contempt for this particular enemy, he turned his back on it and walked slowly away, tempting it with every step to attack.  
  
The inner hallways were dark now that Kurt had smashed all the bulbs. He liked the small, enclosed, inner rooms of the lighthouse. There was no where for anyone to hide and no way for anyone to escape. He silently longed for a lighthouse full of victims.  
  
And he heard that noise again. "Bee-Beep!"  
  
Kurt cocked his head and sniffed the air. It smelled like salt. The ocean was probably bleeding from where he had cut it with the windows. He smelled nothing more.  
  
"Bee-Beep?" Kurt called out questioningly.  
  
"Bee-Beep!" Came the mocking reply in a tone far too chipper for it to have realized whom it was dealing with.  
  
"Bee-Beep." Kurt told himself. "Bee-Beep." He said again, feeling the anger rise. "Bee-Beep." He hissed through his clenched teeth. "Bee-Beep!" He screamed at the top of his lungs in to the darkness of the hall. "Oh, vait, don't vorget, Bee-Beep!" He was spitting in rage as he spoke now, jerking his body wildly in a desperate attempt to expel the torrent of anger he felt coursing through him.  
  
"Bee-Beep!" Cried the chipper voice from down the hall.  
  
The reply ran through Kurt like a chill. He drew himself up to a proper posture and composed himself as he glared down in to the darkness. For a moment the voice seemed to grasp it's peril and it said nothing. All that could be heard were the muffled screams of the sea in the next room. And the screams were a comfort to Kurt. They were a reward for striking first and meaning it.  
  
"Bee-Beep!"  
  
Kurt was shaken from his brief respite. He was filled with a moral outrage. "Oh, dat's eet." He spoke calmly and rationally to the darkness. "You are over!" He told it in no uncertain terms.  
  
Kurt raised his sword in a two handed grip. Kurt put his back to one wall and cast his eyes again in to the darkness. He stepped cautiously along the hall, favoring the wall so as not to squeak the floor by accident.  
  
His movements became quick, fluid and decisive. He found doorway after doorway, all leading to empty rooms. He caught no scent in the air and saw no trace of prowler.  
  
"Bee-Beep!"  
  
Kurt jumped out of skin. Shaken, but not for long, Kurt turned his attention toward the sound once more. It was in the room across the hall.  
  
Kurt leapt and rolled down the hall to take up a position off to the side of the door. He lifted his blade and edged it out past the doorframe so that he could use its reflection to survail the room.  
  
It looked completely empty and quiet. Kurt smiled. "Eet's alvays da quviet vones." He told himself in a whisper.  
  
"Bee-Beep!" Kurt's blade reflected a red burst of light.  
  
Kurt poked his head around the corner just in time to see the red message light flash on the communications system blink out. Although this demonic version of Kurt had his memories and experiences at its disposal, this information existed mainly as instinct.  
  
He stood dumbfounded before the machine. Vaguely he knew that there was a sacred motion he had to make over this strange altar in order to reveal the spirits and their messages. He reached out with his double-thick index finger and keyed the message replay button.  
  
For a moment nothing happened and he dropped his eyes to the panel's controls so that he could select again.  
  
Then the image blinked to life. It was Kitty.  
  
"Hi, Kurt. I don't know when you'll be getting this message, or where you are. I hope you're okay and that you'd call if something's come up and you need back up or anything."  
  
She was nervous and kept casting glances around the room she was in.  
  
"I've just been in to see Hank privately and he let me use his Comm. But I don't know how long I have to talk privately so I'm just going to blurt this out all at once."  
  
She took a deep breath and steadied herself.  
  
Kurt was enraptured. He reached out and touched the image on the screen. Who was she?  
  
"Kurt, we have a son together. Or rather, we will have. He's here at the mansion with me now. He's from the future. The DNA checks out Kurt. Hank says it's 99% for sure. Well, he was hurt, and he's recovering."  
  
She shook her head sadly and Kurt felt a swell of indignity. Who would dare to hurt such a woman? Couldn't they see that she glowed in her own light?  
  
"I've seen him, but he was unconscious." She bit her lip. "I wanted to talk to you about this and get things prepared first, but it looks like I'm going to be bringing him home with me to the lighthouse. He's got a teammate here too. She hardly leaves his side. I think they're in trouble Kurt."  
  
She looked truly distressed. Magnificently and radiantly so. She turned her gaze so that she was speaking more intimately and directly to the Kurt she knew.  
  
"I love you. We'll be home soon."  
  
The woman vanished from the screen in a blip of light.  
  
Kurt stood listening to the sea scream and the furniture cower in fear. Somewhere inside his there was a distraction. It was something he didn't understand and couldn't name. The distraction turned and rolled through his mind like a cloud of confusion.  
  
He shook his head and felt it clear.  
  
People were coming. That was all this meant. People were coming to fill the twisted halls because he had asked for it. This meant nothing more.  
  
But inside that head clouding distraction, the real Kurt had heard Kitty's words, and he had begun to laugh with joy, spinning weightless and wildly in celebration.  
  
He was a father. It was a boy. 


	6. Brunch with Mutants: Homes and Families

Kitty took the empty hall in long, purpose-filled strides. Both Scott and Storm had let her go on alone from the hangar. It was a blessing and a curse. Thankfully no one else was trying to orchestrate this little event. It could unfold naturally and of it's own design.  
  
Unfortunately this also meant that she had to find the will power to push open that last door on her own.  
  
She laid her hand against the rich grain of the dark wooden door. It was cool and comforting it it's own way. This door was the last line of defense. When she passed through it she would have to admit that she was a mother. The very next words out of her mouth would be her first experience as a parent.  
  
Kitty took a deep, slow and labored breath. She exhaled quietly, with her eyes closed, as her knees threatened to give beneath her.  
  
She applied a gentle pressure to the door and felt herself begin to phase out of some vague insecurity.  
  
Kitty swallowed hard, pulled herself together and pushed the door wide open.  
  
To find Logan standing, arms folded, against the far wall. Between where Kitty stood at the door and where Logan stood across the room, there was a small man, wrapped in bandages and laid out unconscious on one of the metal infirmary beds. Through the occasional gap in his sterile dressings she could see his skin was a soft shade of deep blue.  
  
Logan lifted a finger to his lips to indicate silence. He then motioned to the next bed.  
  
Kitty stepped in to the room so as to see the other bed as well. A young blonde girl was sprawled on the bed as though she had fallen asleep while being blasted through the air by an explosion, and simply slept on where she had landed.  
  
Kitty smiled despite herself. There was once a time when she too had fallen to sleep in this house. A time when she was young and tired enough to sleep in any position at all. "It must be this place." She thought silently.  
  
Kitty spied Hank McCoy's large, shaggy frame sitting in a lab coat and glasses, hunched over his desk, off to her far right. He was holding a pen in each hand and appeared to be writing on (at least) two different sets of forms; each set atop an open file folder.  
  
He looked up at her and she saw him register a look of incredible delight. A second later his right hand finished what it was writing. He nimbly twirled the pen through his fingers, somehow pulling the cap off the back end and plunging it down over the point as he finished the flourish. He then looked distractedly at his left hand. It was still writing.  
  
Hank sighed loudly and simply dropped the pen on top of the unfinished file. He swept out from around the desk and across the room in two graceful bounds.  
  
Then, smiling majestically, and taking her by the hand to draw her towards the boy he whispered "Congratulations Kitty."  
  
And there was no more fear, no more worry or concern, and no doubt at all.  
  
She could see his face now. It wasn't angular like Kurt's face. It was more rounded, like hers. He had Kurt's high forehead, coloring and small frame but wasn't as thin as Kurt. He was beefier and rounded with thick muscles about his shoulders and chest.  
  
Kitty reached out almost absently and brushed a hand full of his thick blue- black hair away from his face. The hair was thick and rough like a horse's tail. For just a moment the boy's eyelids fluttered, perhaps in response to her touch. The eyes beneath were a milky silver-blue imitation of Kurt's golden orbs. Kitty reached out again and lifted his left hand. It was blue and a rougher texture than it appeared with five square, thick fingers. His fingernails were four or five times thicker than normal and formed small talon like claws at the tip of each finger.  
  
Kitty raised her eyes to Hank and Logan who were now standing together and watching her. There was an odd, almost electric, form of relieved delight that seemed to radiate from them. And it was quite obvious that neither of them wanted to fracture the moment.  
  
But the moment was not to last. Kitty could feel the heat of anger coursing through her in a horrid contrast to the peace and calm of the moment.  
  
Logan suddenly stiffened and drew himself up to his full height. He could sense the change in her.  
  
The Beast however seemed blissfully unaware of any change.  
  
"Take her to Chuck now Beast." Logan whispered softly, but it was not a request.  
  
Hank seemed to be considering Logan for a moment, as though trying to read some sleep-blurred passage of a familiar book that he should know by heart yet couldn't recall.  
  
"Of course." Hank breathed softly and nodded once, aware now that he had missed something but unsure of exactly what.  
  
Yet he couldn't help but smile as he offered Kitty his arm and escort.  
  
Kitty took his thick warm arm and squeezed affectionately as they exited through the large main door.  
  
"He's going to be fine." Hank assured her "It was real touch and go at first. I was even afraid to medicate him for the pain." Hank shook his head and Kitty suddenly wondered when he had last slept for more than a distracted minute.  
  
Hank continued "Logan's been with him ever since I authenticated the first strand of DNA. He refuses to leave the room. It's sweet of course, in a deadly, threatening, cigar-smoking and starting-accidental-fires-in-my- wastebasket kind of way."  
  
And Kitty's anger was momentarily held at bay. "Oh, poor Hank." She teased him, and then hugged his arm tightly as they walked.  
  
"Thank you Hank." The soft and honest words brought bitter tears with them.  
  
"Kitty," The Beast looked at a loss for words. "What?"  
  
But she was two steps ahead of him. "Who did this to him Hank? You have to tell me where I can find whoever did this."  
  
And it suddenly became clear to him. Whoever had hurt Kitty's son was about to face one dangerous Mother.  
  
"You'll have to talk to Charles about those matters." The Beast lowered his eyes briefly to the floor and once he had steadied himself and ordered his thoughts he spoke. "There is always someone, Kitty." He had her full attention and once he saw that he continued. "Someone doing something beyond their rights for selfish or shallow purposes. And beyond a healthy disdain for such behavior, even with all our victories, technology, equipment and training; We are almost powerless to act."  
  
Hank shook his head sadly, dropped his eyes and then brought them again to meet hers.  
  
"And that's as it should be. Because we are who we are, and that forces us to be better than those who would wrong us. Because without our daily efforts to be the better people we wish to be, and the efforts of everyone who commits themselves to the same goal, " A lump seemed to catch in his throat. "Without that, Kitty, there's no point in saving anyone's life. Because it would be a world who's greatness and perfection would be forever lost to us all."  
  
His great wide eyes were now glazed over and sheeted with threatening tears.  
  
Kitty threw her arms around his neck and took hold of two great handfuls of fur as she squeezed him tight. A moment later they slowly pulled apart and Hank could see that she had been crying.  
  
"You've had to remind yourself of that, haven't you?" Kitty sniffed, and absently wiped at her eyes.  
  
"For almost two hours strait." Hank admitted, "While I was working on your son." Hank smiled as though he had said too much. "When you're done with Charles I want you to come down to the infirmary and call Kurt." He said plainly. "Scott's almost never down there. He's afraid of Germs. So you can say whatever you want without receiving the mandatory lecture."  
  
"I wish now that he had come." Kitty didn't want to meet Hank's gaze. She was sure that he would see how awkward their intimacy had made them. "That I had made him come."  
  
"I believe they call that hindsight." Hank patted her hand, lifted her chin, and wiped away the last telltale remnants of her recent tears. "Now off you go." Hank smiled again and it betrayed his exhaustion.  
  
"I'll be back down as soon as I can. In the mean time I need to know, when can Kent be moved?"  
  
"Provided it's a properly supervised move, I'd say, maybe half a day, so we can flush his system and get him conscious again." Hank shrugged slightly "Once I felt it was safe I gave him quite a heavy dose. He was in a lot of pain for quite a while before he got here. I thought that sleep might help him shake the trauma of it all."  
  
Kitty nodded appreciatively, although she was unsure if that were sound medical advice or simply an overt act of compassion.  
  
"Thank you again Hank. For everything." Kitty felt lighter and cleaner now. More alive and more connected to life than she had ever felt before. "Now go lay down before you pass out Hank." Kitty paused just a moment with her hands on her hips "Because if I come down there and you're not napping on that last bed mister, so help me, I will put you in that bed for real Mr. Hank McCoy."  
  
Hank's smile had extended sideways through her whole tirade and threat and he responded in his best Valley-Boy voice. "You're just, like totally, the best Mom ever!" Hank threw his arms around her and spun them both twice around before planting her back before Xavier's door.  
  
"I was serious Hank." She said as he went ambling back the way they had come.  
  
Casting just a glance back at her, he softly confessed, "So was I." Before yawning so loudly and suddenly that half the doors up and down the hall opened in all manners of alarm and confusion.  
  
"G'night!" Hank called out half-embarrassed and half-amused as he retreated to follow some good advice. 


	7. Brunch with Mutants: Assuming The Charge

Sorespot went quickly about his duties in an effort to remain perpetually distracted. It worked to a good degree most moments of the day, but it was a technique that was doomed to failure so long as he was doomed to serve Sinister.  
  
At first Sorespot arrived to meet the overly ordinary man and to tell him that his plan failed. The X-Men were unaffected by the weapon and he considered the job finished.  
  
Of course the ordinary man already knew all that and more. Sorespot's blood turned cold in his veins as he watched the mans skin go white and his teeth rise out to points. His eyes darkened and his voice turned coldly emotional, echoing almost mechanically, and ringing truer to the ears than the ordinary voice he had earlier assumed.  
  
And much to Sorespot's displeasure, the job was not finished. The weapon still existed. It was still active. It was hidden, and nothing more. Soon enough Temport and Blockage would extricate themselves from the mansion and return to the retrieval point. But until then he was expected to aid in the recovery of the weapon from here; Sinister's Lair.  
  
Once an hour he was to review the video surveillance of possible weapons storage locations. For almost a day there was nothing. Then, the familial scene of an English lighthouse appeared to have lost a considerable number of windows in one short hour.  
  
"That's it." Sinister intoned. "You will proceed to retrieve the weapon yourself until the others can join you."  
  
And despite the foolishness of going in blind and without back up, Sorespot was glad to go, and to leave behind any previous interest in knives or anatomy.  
  
Meanwhile at Westchester mansion Kitty was meeting with Professor Charles Xavier.  
  
"Kitty. Please, Sit down." The Professor was somber and withdrawn in a stark and emotionless contrast to Logan and Hank's earlier greeting.  
  
Kitty walked right through one of the red leather chairs that sat in front of Xavier's desk. Then she plopped herself strait down in to it.  
  
"I've been monitoring events closely since the arrival of our guests downstairs." He began. "And most of the story I'm sure has been presented to you already." He paused to make sure she was listening. "What you have not been told is that we had an attempted break-in on the evening our visitor's arrived."  
  
Kitty considered this for a moment before prodding the Professor to continue with an understanding nod.  
  
"It is currently our contention that this was an effort to insure the demise of Kent, the boy in our infirmary."  
  
Kitty noticed that he formally avoided calling Kent her son.  
  
"Kent, who also calls himself Temport, seems to have a hybridized ability. He can teleport through space in a manner similar to Kurt's. And he has the added feature of bringing his molecules out of phase during his teleportation. This creates an energy variance that displaces his form temporally as he completes his teleportation."  
  
"So he can travel in time as well as space?" Kitty was shocked. She had never heard of such a young mutant whose abilities were that far reaching.  
  
"Indeed." Xavier looked worried.  
  
"Is there something else Professor?"  
  
"Please, don't take this the wrong way Kitty. I've yet to hold more than a few word conversation with Kent, but I have talked at length with his associate." The professor seemed to e looking for a tactful route to the truth.  
  
"And" Kitty felt her eyes narrow as her emotional walls began to rise, putting the professor at a mental arms length.  
  
"And we've no way of knowing what kind of people they are Kitty. No idea who raised them or what ideals and circumstances helped form them as people."  
  
"You don't like them." It was a statement and a fact. Kitty knew was true as soon as she said it.  
  
"No." Xavier admitted. "I don't." His eyes never left Kitty's although they seemed to soften slightly in response to the rage and fire in her own. "My telepathic attempts to either confirm or deny their story have resulted in nothing but frustration on my part. With the soul exception of a brief mental encounter with our would-be trespasser the other night. Him I read just fine."  
  
Kitty was reserved for the moment. "And what did he tell you?" She asked.  
  
"Only that he was looking for the other two in reference to a job that needed finishing." Xavier held up his hands defensively between them. "I know it's as much a confirmation of their story as anything else. I would just feel better trusting in a few more facts and a few less theories."  
  
"I know you would professor." Kitty stood up. "Thankfully then, it's not your responsibility."  
  
Kitty spun on her heel, phased, and walked back through the chair and then the door.  
  
"Damn." Xavier thought. "I could have handled that better." And in his frustration and disappointment, Professor Charles Xavier missed a vital clue that could endanger Kitty, Kurt, and their family.  
  
Kitty was halfway to the infirmary before she started to calm down. So Xavier didn't like them. He's entitled to his opinion, isn't he? Just because he's Xavier doesn't mean he's infallible. Of course, it could also be that children are more trouble awake than passed out in hospital beds. Xavier could be right. If the X-Men of the future could be mercenaries for hire, isn't it possible that Kurt and her share an estranged son?  
  
Kitty paused before the door to the infirmary. More than anything she wanted to talk to Kurt. She hadn't felt this lost in a long time. She braced herself appropriately, opened the infirmary door, and proceeded in to Hank's lab with a small forced smile to Logan.  
  
Hank was bunked down on a cot at the back of his lab snoring softly. Kitty slipped behind the communications console and keyed the appropriate sequence for the lighthouse transponder.  
  
"Come on, come on Kurt, answer, please." 


	8. Brunch with Mutants: Unraveled part 1

Hank rolled out of bed and ambled down the hall to the bathroom. When he returned, he pushed past the doors to his infirmary and was surprised to find it empty.

__

Of course they're already gone. . . He thought.

He moved the mouse attached to his computer to terminate the screen saver. Some of the computers final analysis were completed. Kent's DNA had now been mapped to perfection.

He double clicked the file and it sprung to full screen.

"Oh no." Hank McCoy felt his whole internal world fall away. 

He spun around and keyed the lighthouse on the comm. The line was bad. Something had happened. The comm was off-line. 

He slammed his fists down together on to the metal desk in front of him. Most everything in the room jumped when he did.

How could he have not seen this before?

But he knew. He had been so occupied with saving Kent and verifying his genetic identity that he simply didn't have the time necessary to complete these last tests.

How would he tell Kitty? Or Kurt? How do you apologize for a mistake like this?

"Hank?" Jean had come, concerned. "What is it? I could feel you in the garden."

Hank slipped in to tears and his voice broke. "Kent isn't their son. He's been genetically altered to appear that way."

Jean could feel that the worst is yet to come, that Hank had not said his peace, and she felt his hesitation.

"Tell me Hank." She told him plainly.

"The particular radio-active signatures I've detected were not only indicative of manipulation but of the manipulator as well."

Jean felt a lump catch in her throat.

"I've seen this pattern of signatures before." He looked at her hard. "It's Sinister."


	9. Brunch with Mutants: Unraveled part 2

The lighthouse had been unresponsive for over an hour. The Blackbird was unresponsive as well. 

Logan climbed in to the two man 'puddle jumper' aircraft. He had been checked out on this machine, but hadn't flown one at night before.

He hit the thrusters as soon as he was air-born and began climbing quickly.

The comm light blinked twice. Logan keyed the receiver.

"Logan" Beast appeared upset. "I've detected something else."

"Go ahead Beast."

"I did a med-scan of Kitty when she was here." He shook his head. "And the computer has found something. She has a three- percent chemical imbalance in the brain. According to the computer, it's quite possibly a result of exposure to the WEED."

"Weed?" Logan asked.

"Wide-field Emotional Engagement Device." Beast replied "We captured it from Magneto who got it who knows where. It's a mind control device. Prolonged exposure leads to psychosis and personality fractures. Short term exposure acts like an intoxicant and creates impulse control problems."

"I see. So when was she exposed? At the mansion?" 

"No. We suspected the Magneto wanted it back and so we sent it to Kurt for storage. Our best guess is that it's somehow become active on their end."

"So how do I get around it Beast?"

"You don't Logan. You'll be just as vulnerable as they are." Beast watched him grimace. "Just stay focused on the mission Logan. Be impulsive toward that end."

"Or psychotic?" Logan grinned.

"You're more than experienced." Beast joked, but pursed his lips.

"What is it Hank?"

"Just save them Logan. Don't let my mistake. . ."

"We were all fooled Beast. You found him out. And now this, WEED do-hickey. You're doing your part. I'll do mine." He smirked "Tell Chuck I left, will ya?"

"Of course." He reached over to key a switch "Beast out." And the screen blinked off. 

"What the hell is happening over there?" He growled.

(Back in the Lighthouse:)

"NO! Kurt, NO!" Kitty leapt forward

"You don't." He whipped around to face her "Understand!" He lashed out and Blockage gasped, she was in line for a swift slicing.

The sword passed clean and quickly through her. She felt her breath catch in her throat.

"KURT!" Kitty screamed "NO!!!"

But it was too late. Kurt's eyes had swiftly darted to Kent's barely conscious form.

"A firstborn male." He whispered with tainted intent. "How biblical." He leapt in to the air and hefted the sword, as though determined to kill the air, and he teleported. 

A burst of smoke appeared, accompanied with a burst of noise, right over Kent's panic stricken form, only a glint of steel, still rising through the smoke, betrayed the unavoidable truth.

Kitty's fingers had gone numb. She couldn't hear herself, although she was sure she was screaming.

"Kurt." She whispered in the back of her mind "Not my boy. . ." 


	10. Brunch with Mutants: Laughter and Pain

Finally, the lighthouse appeared in the distance. Wolverine keyed a surveillance control and the lighthouse appea4red on the screen.

"What the?" But he was at a loss.

The lighthouse was a mess. On one side, all the windows had been broken out. On the other side was a giant gaping hole, slightly lower than the windows.

"Oh, kids, what have you been up to?" He wondered out loud, most of his concern focusing on Kurt. Wolverine knew Kurt very well. And in Wolverine's mind, you cant really know a person until you've seen their darkness; that place within them that scares anyone who dare look.

What Wolverine saw when he looked at Kurt now was sheer strength. The strength to be a 'non-passing' mutant in a humans world. 

Wolverine knew that he, himself, wouldn't want to carry that burden. Wolverine had enough trouble holding on to his humanity at times, without the extra burden of physically not appearing 'human'. He was sure that there would have been times it would have forced the elf out of his head.

And there in lay the problem. The Elf didn't get out of his head. He got focused and motivated instead. 

Wolverines mind drifted back to the last time they sparred with blades at the Xavier institute.

He had always told Kurt to strike true, that he could take it. And one day, Kurt's best was too much for Wolverine to take. Not that he really told that to the elf. Ever.

"Vas dat it?" The flippant boy grinned. "I thought you were faster than this."

Wolverine had seen this ploy before. Kurt was trying to get him worked up so that he would make a mistake. It had worked before. 

"Stuff it Elf." Wolverine swung with a heavy overhand right, his claws extended.

Kurt grinned and dropped low; enticing Logan to over-extend his reach and become what Kurt lovingly referred to as "throw bait". But Logan knew Kurt too well to fall for that this early in the game. Instead he dug down with his left in an exaggerated and razored uppercut that Kurt practically rolled his eyes at.

Kurt swung his sword so that it caught all three of the upcoming claws and he leaned his body weight across the blade, refusing to teleport away and let Logan have the advantage of having him on the run.

Kurt rode Wolverines claws to freedom.

"Vatch dis." Kurt whispered quietly and intimately as his face passed Wolverines. 

And when he was fully air-born under Wolverine's power, he spun in place and brought the sword back in a flash. What had been acceptably close but well controlled was now remarkably close and unacceptably dangerous.

Wolverine brought his claws up; Kurt could take his head off from this close.

But the sword wasn't flashing up, it was flashing down, and in the one nanosecond that it took to realize that, Wolverine knew he had lost.

He didn't feel the sword flash across his calf and sever the tendons, but he felt the leg give out as it crumpled to the floor beneath him. But the sword was still singing it's latest tune. The low slash from between the legs had segued in to an overhand strike through the left bicep, and curled back to strike just a half-inch deep, right above the jugular.

And something in Wolverine snapped. The animal was alive and hungry. He tasted blood and his thoughts were just a static rush of disease.

Somewhere inside he roared and attacked through the pain, launching himself with his good leg and twice the ferocity Kurt had ever seen.

"Dis is more like it." Kurt told him "Dis is Vat I vas talking about." 

Wolverine had lunged forward making an attempt at a piercing jab to Kurt's face.

Kurt parried with minimal force, knocking the blow off target, and ran Wolverine through with one swift stroke of the sword.

He placed the shot through a lung, as Wolverine had told him to, instead of higher and to the left, through the heart.

Kurt twisted the blade before pulling it back out. He knew that this would slow Wolverine's healing factor and therefor his response time.

"But really. Cut loose. Let me have it. _For Real_." Kurt told him, bounding backwards, up and away from Wolverine.

Wolverine looked crazed. A liquid fire swelled behind his eyes and he tore toward the Elf in a fury of spittle, rage and razored steel.

Kurt almost laughed. He surely didn't realize the extent of the damage he'd managed to inflict. In his mind Wolverine was an immortal and beyond such trivial concerns as an Elf with a 'strait-razor' as Bobby called it.

Wolverine, the man, so far as men go, is a good one. Wolverine, the animal, while not an animal to be tangled with lightly, was simply no match for Kurt, the man.

Kurt threaded his sword between Wolverine's claws on his right hand and flipped them both. In a lightning flash, he had freed the sword and planted it firmly through Wolverine's midsection, pinning him, painfully to the floor.

Wolverine convulsed on the sword and it shocked Kurt. He pulled it out.

"Are you. . ." Kurt swallowed. "Okay?" He reached out with his three thick fingers.

"Are, you?" Wolverine gestured towards Kurt's forehead and Kurt realized he was bleeding from his face and forehead.

"I think. . ." Kurt fell to his knees. "Not." He smiled and looked his pierced and bloody midsection , then at Logan.

And Logan laughed. Just once at first, but then, honestly and freely as Kurt joined him.

Kurt fell to the floor. "Oh, man, I'm really hurt." Kurt sighed at last.

"Yeah, me too." Wolverine conceded.

And they both laughed at each other again.

"I was trying to kill you, you know, at the end there?" Wolverine breathed in ragged, labored efforts.

"Den I'm not really hurt all that bad." Kurt shrugged, looking at the horrible syrupy pools they were leaving on the floor.

"Nah." Wolverine agreed. "A lot less than most." He nodded. Then smiled. "And you could have had me." His eyes were more alive than Kurt had ever seen them. "In the real world, use that heart-shot, instead of the lung, and I would have been a dead man." He told him.

And Kurt had swallowed hard. He hadn't suspected that he was that close. "Wolverine, I. . ." He was concerned and apologetic.

"Don't sweat it kid." Logan was pulling himself up slowly "This was always coming. You just graduated. I can't teach you anything more." 

Logan felt his one lung filling with liquid. "Now let's get to the infirmary." He smiled wanly. "Beast'll love this."

Logan's mind drifted back to the present. His blades felt tense in his arms. The animal in him hungered for a piece of Kurt ever since he had beaten him that day. The man wanted no part of it. But this weapon, the W.E.E.D. – if it truly leads to psychosis and wild behavior – as it seemed to be the case (from the looks of the lighthouse) then there was only option; Pray that thing went well.

And Logan wasn't much for praying.

The small jet hunkered low and set itself down gracefully just outside of the debris field that now surrounded the lighthouse.


	11. Brunch with Mutants: Waking Up

Wolverine crept along the outside of the lighthouse, his claws extended. The entire place smelled of brimstone. Kurt must have recently teleported around the entire area, like he used to in danger room combat situations.  
  
Wolverine heard a twig snap and his attention shot to the path that approached the lighthouse.  
  
"Don't move." A voice told him from within the lighthouse.  
  
"Elf?" Wolverine darted his eyes to the source of the voice without making any threatening movements.  
  
"Don't move Logan. If that really is YOU." Kurt told him.  
  
Wolverine could see that he was being held at sword point from within the shadows. He retracted his claws as a sign of good faith.  
  
"Scott . or . Kitty vas just here. Or someone who looked like her. The whole place was trashed. They stole my body . on a stretcher . And . " He was shaking his head, violently - and in spasms, trying to clear it without giving up his advantage with the sword.  
  
"I'm not moving kid, I'm here to help. Beast sent me. Sinister was using mind control on you. Something called the WEED."  
  
"Wide . Wide Field. I remember." Kurt claimed, blinking his eyes repeatedly and trying to focus.  
  
"It was being stored here in the lighthouse." Wolverine told him.  
  
"In da crawlspace. Last box in da line." Kurt told him. "They shot something in to the wall and pulled it down."  
  
"They took the weapon?" Wolverine questioned.  
  
"If that's what it was - yes. It's gone." He shook and trembled.  
  
Wolverine relaxed slightly. "Are you alright Kurt?"  
  
"I don't think so Logan." Kurt kept the blade leveled at him. "I tried to kill them Logan. Kitty, the girl, myself on the table. I remember."  
  
"It wasn't you Kurt, not on the table - and not trying for the kill." He swallowed slowly. "The weapon made you act like that."  
  
"And me?" He shook his head. "The other . me ."  
  
"Sinister geneticly modified some kid to look like your son." Wolverine said flatly.  
  
Kurt shot a glance in to one of the shattered mirrors in the lighthouse. He swelled with the pain and frustration of living a life in the shadows. Then he began to shake with rage.  
  
"He did that to someone?" He snapped his attention back to Wolverine. "Why?" He demanded.  
  
"To manipulate us - all of us - to get the weapon back."  
  
Kurt's eyes betrayed a deadly and murderous rage.  
  
"Elf." Wolverine said softly. "Just wait it out. Don't do this now. The effect is gonna pass. Where's Kitty now?" Wolverine had a sinking feeling.  
  
"Gone." The Elf said too quickly, biting his lip absently.  
  
"Gone where?" Wolverine felt himself bear his teeth as he growled the question, casting his glance about the floor of the room in worry.  
  
"With Scott." Kurt nodded, sounding unsure.  
  
"Scott's in Westchester." Logan told him. "I just left him there."  
  
Kurt shook his head quickly. "He took them - all of them - the box, the bird, the blonde and the boy ."  
  
He's rhyming! Wolverine seemed to recall something about rhyming . something that made the elf real nervous. But what exactly was it?  
  
"Kurt?" Wolverine eyed him.  
  
"Ja?" He asked, flashing a nuerotic grin over his sword blade.  
  
"Put the sword down, will ya?" He tried to sound friendly.  
  
"So you can hit me like Kitty did?" He eyed Wolverine suspiciously and licked at his busted lip.  
  
"Why did Kitty hit you?" Wolverine asked quietly.  
  
"I don't know. I heard a scream and I found myself holding my sword, not knowing what I was doing ."  
  
"And she hit you?" Wolverine sniffed at the air - it was brimstone, masking the scent of blood.  
  
Kurt ignored him. "But I DID know what I was doing. I vas saving her, from dying like the blonde girl, I had to stop myself, while I was still weak and tied to the bed. Before I ."  
  
"Kurt!" Logan barked, catching his attention. "What have you done?"  
  
And, ever so slowly, Kurt lowered his sword as a maddening fear began to shine in his eyes.  
  
"Logan." He said at last, letting the sword fall from his hand. "I don't know." 


	12. Brunch with Mutants: Facts and Perceptio...

"How is Kurt?" Beast asked.

"Strong." Wolverine replied. "But worried about Kitty."

"Her personal Comm line has been open for almost an hour now Logan. But it's on Mute." Beast keyed a few commands on an off-screen computer.

A small map appeared in the corner of the small communications screen in the puddle-jumper. A blip was demonstrating movement away from the lighthouse.

"And Scott is still there, at the mansion?" Logan raised an eyebrow.

"Indeed, much to his chagrin. He wants to be a part of this, because of his history with Sinister, but you took the last viable aircraft."

Logan took a deep breathe in through his nose and then spoke very plainly. "Beast, that's just too damn bad. It's not his family on the line this time." _It's mine …_

"You're right, of course, but Logan?" Beast cut him and intimate look. "Kurt _is_ family. Yours, mine, and even Scotts."

Wolverine bit his tongue, metaphorically. "I see what you're saying Beast. Logan out." He keyed the Comm and Beast vanished, looking like he wanted to say something more.

Logan jumped down out of the aircraft and jogged up to the lighthouse.

Kurt steadied himself before the monitor. He was relieved when they had searched the lighthouse and not found any bodies strewn about. And yet his memory clawed at him. He had seen the blade, watched it pass through the girl, Blockage, and he remembered raising it high above his head, intent of cleaving his son.

But then something had happened. There was a scream or a howl, and for a moment, he felt fine, normal again. And then …

His next thoughts were fragmented, and frenzied. Suddenly he believed that he was looking at himself as a young man. 

It was the nightmare again. The worst one he had ever had. 

The one where he lost control.

Only this time … it was real. He _was_ out of control, homicidal, and in a word … _Evil_.

__

I vas fine until she hit me … The thought rolled through his mind. _For just that second I vas myself again._

Kurt took a deep breath and keyed the playback feature on the lighthouse security system. 

The image winked in to it's wicked existence.

Kitty had come running, searching the house. He watched in silence as she ran room to room, calling his name.

Twice he saw himself moving in the shadows, hunting her, and smiling.

It made him sick.

Then the blonde woman came in, supporting 'Kent' who still couldn't walk by himself. 

The blonde girl triggered a button on her watch.

__

Hello. Kurt thought. _Not too suspicious._

Suddenly, a large tattooed man fell in to the scene from above. Kitty and Blockage jumped.

"That's right." Kurt said out loud to no one_. There was someone else here first … I dropped him from the balcony after …_

The blonde girl came to the large man's aid, freeing his hands and pulling tape from his mouth.

He seemed to be terrified, ranting and pointing.

Kitty began to rant back, putting the man in his place.

She slapped him.

And he stopped, stunned, and hesitant.

Kurt couldn't see what else she said, but the man was relaxing, or at the least, backing down.

"Give him hell." Kurt whispered, tentatively touching the monitor with one thick finger.

And in a flash it happened, Kurt appeared on the screen, stretched across it like an animal in mid-leap, his sword drawn. He seemed to be dancing, or bounding about, enthusiastically.

And then he remembered.

"Elf?" Logan asked from behind Kurt.

"Security tapes." Kurt explained, pulling back so that Logan could see the monitor. "This big guy who I just … cut across the face …" He grimaced. "I found him in the upstairs hall, right outside our crawl space." 

Kurt shook his head. "I interrogated him for hours."

"What did you learn?" Wolverine asked.

"That he wasn't with Kitty and didn't know where she was." He shrugged. "I had seen her message – that she was on her way. I thought they were together. _" I had hoped it …_ He shook his head.

Logan gestured toward the monitor. "You just tried to slice the girl." Logan pointed. "Kitty phased her, dropped her through the floor."

Kurt turned his attention back to the monitor. He saw himself, evil sneer on his face as he cast his eyes to the young boy.

He could tell from the movement of his lips that he said "How biblical." And then he vanished, only to appear perched above the young mans fragile form, his sword held high …

"You didn't do it." Logan had crossed his arms over his chest, but now he uncrossed them and leaned in to watch more closely. "You're too fast for it to have taken this long."

Kurt turned to study the monitor more closely.

"I hes-I-tated." He said slowly. "And then … I looked to Kitty."

Then everyone in the camera frame reacted, as though a whistle had gone off.

And Kurt, the one on the screen, looked confused at his own threatening posture.

"Did you see that?" Logan asked, "Something snapped you out of it." His eyes were searching the screen.

"I remember. There was a scream."

"Whoa!" Wolverine actually ducked instinctively. "She REALLY clocked you."

"_Ja_." Kurt agreed, tonguing his busted lip.

"And that did it." Logan nodded several times. "Look at your eyes."

And Kurt could see that he was right, he wasn't in there any more, it was The Demon.

"I thought …" Kurt began and Logan turned to look at him. "I thought … I was …" He closed his eyes and the nightmare threatened to engulf him. He had killed Kitty – it was how the nightmare ended – and when she had hit him – it was as though she were fighting for her life, and he – trying to take it.

And that belief had made it real.

Logan turned back to the monitor, disturbed by Kurt's fitful silence.

"Well, I'll be a son of a bitch!" Logan exclaimed.

The camera had somehow shaken loose of its perch and ended up on the floor. It did clearly show A hole in the lighthouse wall that framed – someone who appeared to be – Scott Summers.

"I'm sorry I doubted you Elf."

"Why? I doubt myself." 

Logan turned away from the monitor. "More than enough time for that after we're all home tonight." He told Kurt.

"Of course." Kurt replied, sounding hurt.

__

Oh, Elf. Logan thought. _Don't do this to yourself. _

"Come on." Logan told him. "Beast has a fix on Kitty's Comm signal. We've got some traveling to do."

Logan turned suddenly to face Kurt, looking him in the eye. "Do I smell … _Chickens_?"


	13. Brunch with Mutants: Guy Talk

The puddle-jumper sped over the water so closely that it threw back a wave from each wing.

"We should be there in a few minutes." Logan said in to his headset. 

Kurt was sitting in the back seat of the jumper. This seat faced backwards and allowed someone to operate the aft weapons systems. Kurt had spent most of the trip staring numbly at the triggers while small bits and pieces of memory floated out of the depths of his mind.

He recalled seeing Kitty on the Comm system at the lighthouse. He couldn't remember what she had said. Chances are – he hadn't been listening. But when he had seen her, he had seen her so purely, as he had seen her when they were young. But it was more powerful than any distant memory and stronger than he remembered.

Perhaps because it had been new again for the first time. 

"Elf?" Logan asked, concerned. "You still back there?"

Kurt felt his mouth try to pull in to a smile. He pushed the headset tighter to his ear.

"Ja. A few minutes." He said softly. "Logan …"

Logan tensed under the serious and focused tone of Kurt's voice. 

"This weapon. Nothing like this should be allowed to exist." He said softly. "Just like …" _Like I shouldn't ven I'm like **that**._

Logan swallowed and looked out the window as though looking away would help him ignore what he was hearing.

"Promise me Logan that when we get there – **_you'll_** save Kitty."

Logan cocked his head slightly because of the lump in his throat.

"Get her out of there and put down anyone who stands in your way."

Logan closed his eyes, momentarily and tightened his grip on the controls.

"Because, if I go _that_ way again, you'll need to be ready. You'll have to know, that it's better to me – to die for the people you love, than to live on _without them_."

Logan's jaw was set tightly and he could feel a low rumble of a growl rising from his chest.

"Kitty is … very easy to love." Kurt continued. "But ven it happens and I'm _HIM_ … I have love … confused with … bloodlust. And … _I want her Logan_. As much as I ever wanted her – over the years of our youth – but … _all at once._ Like it's _new_ and …"

Kurt thought of taking Kitty to his bed. How he had grown out of such fantasies years ago. And when he wasn't looking, he and it grew in to a shared reality. 

He thought of, how as a child, he had dreamed he killed her. He couldn't bring himself to face her for days afterward. It was the worst dream he had ever had. But now … it seemed just as possible as taking her to his bed. 

"_Attainable_." Kurt whispered.

Logan's head swam with a million incidents of Kurt's flirtations with Kitty in their youth. 

How many Christmas' times did Logan spend watching Kurt chase Kitty with mistletoe? How many coy one liners and playful suggestions had he seen the Elf dole out? 

It was impossible for Logan to guess. But the numbers seemed astronomical – like the distances between stars.

And although every one of those thoughts brought a small smile to his mind and threatened to curl his lips, it was tempered by the seriousness of the situation and his inability to promise what the Elf asked.

"I'll remember what you told me." Logan's words were low and clipped. "But you've got to realize this _once and for all Kurt_."

Kurt sat up. Logan almost never spoke to him like an instructor any more.

"We're an _even match_ kid, and that's _being kind to myself_. I've got the structural intergity and the healing factor, but it don't due much good when you can move as quick as you can think. I told you when you were young – _you could have had me_. And if I were … _to try and …"_

Logan bit through his lip in anger just to taste the blood It seemed to calm him down and focus him.

"It's a coin toss Elf." He said at last. "I can't promise anything. Except that if I had to take you out – and if I could – I would make it clean, and quick."

Kurt was shaking from within.

"But …" Logan took a deep breath and noticed that the bleeding had stopped and his lip was almost no longer sore. "The truth is - I can see dying for the people I love too. And if that weapon killed me, even using you to do it, It would be a good way to go – an honest way. And worth more than most ways I can imagine." He seemed to be forcing the words out. "And if that happened, I would only want one thing …"

Kurt could feel his throat closing over his desire to know what it was, even as he tried to ask.

"Someone would have to take up the cause for me …" He looked away. He swore that he would never endanger his friends with his responsibilities. "It's … _Sabertooth_." He said at last. "He _needs_ to be put down. I learned it _a long time ago_. And the only reason I haven't been able to …"

Logan blinked several times to clear his vision. "I can't put him down. _We're too much alike_." He said sharply. "But you _could_ do it Elf. I knew it that day you pinned me in the danger room, all those years ago."

"Logan." Kurt took a breath. "This isn't _us_." He said in a realization. "I mean it is, but we're being …"

"Impulsive." Logan sat up strait. "That means …"

"The weapon." Kurt breathed. "It's on … What if … it's still on?"

Kurt sat up nervoulsly. "Logan – Vat if it's been on all this time. What if Kitty and …"

But his thoughts were scattered. There were too many variables to consider. 

They rounded a small island and Logan saw their destination ahead of them. It was a small volcanic island where Sinister had kept a base several years before. Normally it was a lush and uninhabited island full of birds and wild foliage.

Today, however, half the island was burning and being reduced to soft white ash.

"I can't say Kurt, but let's agree right now – our main goal is to get Kitty and get out."

"Of course." Kurt agreed quickly, still facing the wrong way to see the island before them.

"Well then." Logan decided out loud. "Next stop – _Hell itself_."

__

Ja. Kurt chided himself. _Home sweet home._


	14. Brunch with Mutants: Up and Addendum

They set the puddle jumper down on the beach near the only remaining vegetation.

"The map says it's this vay." Kurt pointed up a rocky mountainside. 

Logan cast his eyes up the trail. "Think you can teleport us up there? It looks like quite a climb."

"Any more 'porting and I'm going to be useless." Kurt replied softly.

"_It's what he wants_." The Demon seemed to whisper in his ear. "_And then he'll have you_."

Kurt shook it off.

"Then we climb." Logan said. "We'll need each other to stay sane."

"_Make him go first_." The Demon said. "_Keep an eye on him_."

And Kurt recalled something – something he knew was a memory – he just didn't remember that it was from a dream. It was Wolverine – attacking him in his nightmare.

"Yes." Kurt decided with a sweeping motion. "Lead the vay."

And Logan smiled. He appreciated how Kurt expressed his respect in so many little ways.

The Earth trembled slightly under their feet.

"Did you feel that?" Logan asked.

"Ja." Kurt swallowed and looked nervous. "Volcanic island." He cast his eyes up to the outcropping that was supposed to house the secret entrance to Sinister's lair. "Kitty." He breathed.

And when he looked back, Logan was already making his way up the narrow, rocky trail.

Kurt wasted no time in taking two steps after him – before he stopped and looked back down the beach.

"Aren't you coming?" He asked the empty beach.

And he watched The Demon turn to look at him. It had been leaning on the puddle-jumper, distractedly studying it's claws.

"_Save the day? Climb away? But when it's done … **it's time for fun**_." The Demon offered..

"Vatever." Kurt sighed at his imaginary friend. "_But let's go_!"

And they went bounding up the trail together.

In a moment, Kurt had caught up with Logan, and a moment later, by climbing a different route, he had passed him up. He waited on a safe and stable ledge that appeared to lead up the cliff-face.

Then, just before Logan could reach him, the earth shook hard around them. Kurt pressed a hand to the rock and felt himself anchor in place.

Logan was not so lucky. He grabbed, clutched, and slipped. He hooked his fingers and felt them catch a rocky outcropping. His flesh was crushed and torn between his metal skeleton and the cold immutable rock. He was hinged and hanging on the nerve bundle in his fingertip. It was making his hand go numb with the steady tingle of pain. The earth down below seemed to be spinning lazily to the left. The drop looked like it was close to five hundred feet.

"Elf!" Logan called. "Take my hand." He stretched precariously but could easily reach his friend.

"_Yes_." The demon whispered over his shoulder. "_Take his hands. Take them off! Why dream when reality lay before you, waiting_?" His forked tongue ran over his front teeth.

Nightcrawler quivered, momentarily confused, and he clasped the outstretched hand. He could taste the blood. How sweet the madness and mayhem of that action would be. To teleport away with his hand and let him fall anyway. He felt the sing-song rhyming madness closing in, and he wanted to do it.

"Elf?" The tone was soft but the voice was harsh. "Pull me up Kurt. Brace yourself."

"I vant to Logan." He shook his head, but the impulse remained. He could feel himself working up the mental energy to teleport.

"Kurt. We don't have time for this. We have to save Kitty. Who's going to save Kitty?"

Kurt looked down unsure.

"And Kent?" Wolverine knew he was in trouble, things were growing desperate. "Who's going to save you son, Kent?"

Logan looked down and swallowed hard. "Kitty would never forgive you if anything happened to Kent!"

And Kurt was surprised to find himself pulling and to see Wolverine slowly rising off the ledge.

"The weapon Logan. It must be nearby." Nightcrawler avoided his gaze.

Logan looked back over the ledge and then back at Kurt. "You think so, hunh?" He rolled his eyes, shook his head, smiled awkwardly and started off down the trail.

"_Spoil-Sport_." The Demon hissed. 

And in response, when Logan wasn't looking, Kurt stuck his tongue out at The Demon – Who, in turn, crossed his arms and looked away.


	15. Brunch with Mutants: When Cats Hunt

Kitty idly tossed a rock in to the air and caught it repeatedly.

Her eyes darted around the underground cavern..

And then … she saw him.

She caught the rock, phased her hand – the stone included, and threw it with all of her might.

It rang as it hit him full in the chest, partially phasing as it hit, and imbedding itself as a part of both his skin and armor.

He screamed in pain and dug his fingers in around the stone. "Damndable witch!" Sinister cursed.

Kitty smiled slowly. Hurting him made her feel good. It made her purr. She loved this game; cat and mouse.

Another rock flew from her hand and solidified in his cheek.

His eyes blazed in anger and he ripped the second stone from his face. It left a red hole in his white skin – which then began to pull closed.

"Tell me." She whispered across the room.

"I DON'T KNOW!" He screamed back before taking off on a run, holding his right arm clutched close to his chest.

Briefly he tried to pull that clutched arm strait - but it was no use. Her first stone had solidified, connecting his wrist to his collarbone. He took three steps and vanished in to the darkness.

"I am not who you think I am. My name is Nathanial Essex! I have a child and a wife. I am English!" Sinister clutched his arm and tried again to pull it free. It refused to budge.

"You are _Sinister_!" She spit the word back. "A perverted and unnatural mixture of science and a total lack of empathy or emotion."

"I love my son!" He screamed back, forgetting himself.

"You love only the coldest of science." She purred internally as she realized where he was hiding. 

He could tell when she stopped moving that she had found him and he began to retreat further in to the darkness.

She idly picked up another stone and lined up her shot. She planted it right in – behind his knee. It solidified before coming out the kneecap. His leg locked in to position and he fell forward, landing on his face and the wrist of his one free hand.

"Your kind always _has to know_." She purred, casting her eyes around for another stone. She couldn't find one.

Instead, she marched over to him and stepped on his ankle, then phased it – under her foot, in to the floor of the cavern. 

The she stepped away, allowing him to solidify as a part of the floor.

He screamed in a tortured metallic tone.

"Yes. I know." She smiled sympathetically. "Life can be painful, cant it?"

"God, spare me from this madness and this demon witch from hell …" Sinister was half roaring and half praying, clearly, out of his mind.

She marched past him. "So you were going this way, right?" She pointed down the tunnel. "So I bet it's down here." She nodded to herself, but was looking at Sinister. 

Sinister snarled, but bit back on his anger. "I … don't … know."

"Of course, I can't believe anything you say or do." She told him. "Because you're so full of _shit_." She explained.

"I don't even .. know what you're …talking … about." He was slowly suffering an emotional breakdown. Physically he was deflating and losing his will to run or fight.

And she snatched up a stone and threw it at his head. His hand shot up to protect his face, and the stone solidified – half in and half out – of each side of his hand.

He winced – but seemed facinated by the specticle of the stone in his hand.

She shrugged slightly. "Do stay here, wont you?" She asked, toying with him – before she started down the hall.

"my son … my son _… I'm so sorry_ … So …Sor…" Sinister broke in to a sob.

Kitty spun to look at him. Thick, black and murky tears were streaming down his white face.

He looked to her as though he didn't know her. "My _son_ …" He explained. "He … he _died_." His shoulders shuddered under the weight of the memory. "I … I thought that science could …" His lower lip quivered. "But … I should have … _God may have_ …" His eyes glassed over and he looked confused.

"No." He said to himself in a lofty manner. "Eighteenth century equipment and nineteenth century science just couldn't solve a twenty first century problem. I … I …" But he couldn't finish. He broke down and collapsed in to a heap on the floor.

"_I don't care_." Kitty hissed coldly. "You had _no right_ – _to_ _MY son_." Here eyes flashed.

Kitty turned quickly on the wall to he left. It was hot to the touch. She phased it and let the red hot volcanic earth come pouring towards them both – through where the rock should have been. As it got within ten feet she began to re-solidify the wall. When it got to five feet away, she let the rock solidify completely.

Not the heat was radiating through the cavern like an oven. The wall was sizzling and minerals on the surface were beginning to liquify and run down in to puddles on the floor. Small flames were sparking on the surface and burning themselves out. 

Kitty phased out of necessity. "Goodbye mister Essex." She smiled, turned, and began to run down the hall.

Sinister quivered in fear. The heat was unbearable now. He tried to struggle, to get free, and for a moment he had no success. The he noticed that the skin around Kitty's stones was going soft from the heat.

He wrapped his free hand around his trapped wrist and pulled with all of his might. And finally, with a snap, e tore his wrist free of his collar bone.

Then , slowly, he turned to see how much of his foot was adhered in to the rapidly warming floor. He saw, braced his arms before him, and …

Kitty heard him scream, madly and in wild torment, from all the way down the hall.

Not that she knew why, or cared. After all, she had just found 'it' or should we say – 'him'.


	16. Brunch with Mutants: When Worlds Collide

Kurt crept along the passage as quietly as he could. Logan had waited at the mouth of the cave as they had discussed but he would be following soon if Kurt didn't double back.

The passage opened in to a cavern and he slowly edged around the corner.

"Do you think that she's alright?" Kent asked out loud, not aware of Kurt's approach.

Blockage sighed out loud and dropped her head in to her hands.

"None of us is alright." She spoke the words as though she had been saying them forever. "We need to get out of here before Sinister kills us."

Kurt peeked around the corner and saw Blockage digging through a pile of supplies. Obviously this was a storage cavern.

"What kind of a nutcase lives on an island and doesn't have a boat?" She asked disgustedly. "There was a dock before the damn island caught fire. Why the hell doesn't he have a freaking boat?" 

She threw down a box in anger. It sounded like it was full of glass lab equipment. "Or aspirin!" She wailed, throwing her hands to her head. "That damn noise is making me crazy." She spit and roared as she spoke.

Kurt drew his sword silently. He could hear or sense Wolverine approaching cautiously behind him. He stepped out and circled around the two of them.

"Hey there." Kurt nodded. "You want to leave?"

Blockage swallowed slowly and nodded, slipping up, between Kurt and Kent.

"Tell me where Kitty is and we'll take you." Kurt said softly, eyeing the other entrances to the cavern.

"She went after Sinister." Blockage was obviously sober and relatively unaffected by the weapon. "Down there." She pointed back, past Kurt to an almost hidden passageway.

:"Logan!" Kurt called softly. 

"Yeah." He stepped out of the shadows slowly.

"Take them to the Jumper."

"Tight fit." Logan observed.

"I'll ride on top." Kurt shot him a grin and motioned with his sword that Blockage and Kent should follow Logan.

The cavern shook around them and the air was filled with a crunching sound.

"Vhat is that?" Kurt asked.

"That's the sound of burning rock." Logan told him. "Hurry."

But the noise came again, this time with a flittering movement in the shadows. Kurt was sure he could hear labored breathing in the room with them.

"Send them away and then we play!" The Demon whispered.

"Go." Kurt called to them – Just as Kitty was phasing through the wall.

She had a large, misshapen mutant that appeared to be part bird in a headlock. 

"Dinner!" She called out loud before realizing who was in the room.

Then she panicked.

Kitty pushed the birdman away and stopped to eye Kurt suspiciously.

She was about to speak when Kent lunged forward, screaming. Too late to do more than notice, Kurt turned his attention to match the boys focus. Sinister was standing in the shadows, betrayed by a glint of a gun barrel.

A beam leapt from the gun.

Kurt tried to scream her name but everything seemed to be happening in slow motion.

Everything that is, except Kent. He became a blur – like the dark swirls of dust that surround Kurt when he teleports, but Kurt could still make out his form through the haze. He was swimming madly across the room towards Kitty, moving just faster than the beam.

A spark of hope, some ancient kind of hope, flared within Kurt's mind. He didn't need to understand in order to hope.

The dark swirling cloud began to flush with red and Kurt watched, trapped in a horrific slow motion, as the red tint flew off and became dust, tracing his trail across the room.

__

Blood. Kurt realized. _He's hurt … bleeding_.

And then the room exploded with a rush of activity as Kent stepped in front of the beam and threw himself on top of Kitty.

Kitty, surprised, phased out of fear and he fell right through her as the beam tore harmlessly through her midsection.

Kitty roared, her eyes mad with rage and she flew at Sinister, catching him around the throat and plunging them both through the wall

The boy shuddered before Kurt could follow and something stopped him from teleporting through the wall to help Kitty. 

Instead he dropped to his knees beside the boy.

"Vhy?" Kurt looked imploringly at the young man. "Why did you do it?"

"What do you mean?" He asked. "Dad, it's the weapon. You don't know … what … you're saying."

The boy collapsed but remained aware.

"Logan!" Kurt hissed. "_Hurry_." And then he took off down the nearest passage to where Kitty and Sinister had passed out of sight.


	17. Brunch with Mutants: Eruption!

Kitty had lost her grip on Sinister as they plunged through the wall. It also seemed that they had weakened the wall as well. Parts of it were falling away an the heat was increasing again.

Kurt slid in to the room and stopped short. The Demon was blocking his path.

The cavern shook. And the earth broke open. The cavern filled with a nasty haze. Everything that could be seen through the black billowing smoke was distorted by heat and recognizable only by carnival fun-house standards.

"**_Fun_**!" The Demon demanded.

Kurt lifted his head to face him. 

"Shut up!" Kurt screamed at The Demon. "I don't know vhy I didn't kill you _long ago_!" He shouted, drawing his sword.

What Kurt's fragile mind could not bring itself to comprehend is that no one else could see The Demon.

And The Demon – devious beast that he was – had positioned himself between Kitty and Kurt.

Kitty's eyes flashed with rage as she watched Kurt draw his sword.

"As if you could!" She shook with rage as she spit the words, crouching in to a striking position, preparing to attack.

"As if you could." Kurt heard The Demon say, spreading his arms wide as though offering himself as a target. 

"Oh." Kurt smiled. "_I can_."

And he leapt toward The Demon.

"_I am you_." The Demon smiled. "**_Your destiny_**."

Kitty, incensed, leapt toward Kurt. She was intent on phasing him, face first, in to the floor.

"Not any more!" Kurt screamed.

He thrust his sword through The Demon's heart and twisted the blade. He drew it back in a flash, spun, and let loose with such a flurry of steel and rage that Kitty, even with her ability to phase, was afraid to proceed. She slid to a hesitant halt.

Kurt ducked then parried and struck downwards over handed through the empty air.

He watched The Demon as it tried to defend itself, as it tried to strike back, but it was no match for Kurt. In the end, The Demon wrapped his arms around himself, trying to hold his wounds closed. He fell to his knees and then lost all his color – turning an ashen gray.

The Demon moved his lips, as though trying to speak, and dissolved in to an invisible dust and vanished from Kurt's sight.

A small smile played upon Kurt's face. He was finally _free_.

Kurt lifted his eyes, and for a moment through the smoke and heat, he didn't know her. Then his eyes softened and he could see her clearly – no matter the obstruction.

He sheathed his blade without looking and smiled.

She shook with rage. Was he tempting her? Was it a challenge? A spark flared behind her eyes and she reminded herself that she _had_ to kill him. 

So Kitty lunged at him as the ground shook and groaned around them.

And …

Kurt let his head fall slightly to one side. His eyes shimmered with a love that was ancient to his heart. To Kurt, Kitty was bathed in the golden light of heaven that he had envisioned as a boy. She always had been. And silently, he chided himself for ever having lost sight of it.

She closed the distance between them, her mind set on her task, but her heart … unsure. 

Every step seemed to be an eternity of doubt. What was he waiting for? Was he _this_ sure of himself?

And, suddenly, he spread his arms, ever so slightly.

Her logical mind retreated in horror and mad animal fear as she became fully solid – as though by Kurt's command – and she slowed, taking her last two steps like a fool in fear of her life.

She stepped right in to his waiting arms.

And he wrapped his arms around her, gently.

And the memories flooded back to her.

Kurt – Laughing, hanging upside down by his tail. Making her laugh too. Years worth of laughter and friendship then days and nights of passion.

__

…Kurt …

The earth shook again and this time the wall fell in and the room began to flood with molten rock. 

"Hold me." She whispered gently, and softly, as she phased them both to safety as the wall of magma passed right through them.

"Forever – if it be God's will." He whispered in her ear, seemingly oblivious to the threat around them.

And then – he kissed her – with years of repressed passion and a lifetime's worth of honest desire.

She wrapped hr arms around him and kissed him back. 

He coiled his tail around her waist and she quivered under the memory of the far more private things he could do with his tail.

The world was burning around them, torrential rivers of red hot earth splashed the cavern and adhered in to place.

Instinctively, Kitty let her phase slip, just enough that they began to rise as the cavern filled in beneath them.

Another low rumble sounded below them as the walls continued to fall in under the fury unfolding below ground. And as they rose, the rumble became the soft drone of the puddle-jumper which was hovering overhead.

"Oh, for crying out loud." Logan looked down from the cockpit of the jumper to see Kitty and Kurt, wrapped in each others arms and the billowing black smoke of the volcano.

He put a hand to his headset. "How's he holding up back there?" He asked.

"He's okay. The bandages are holding." Blockage replied. She was strapped in to the second seat, her arms wrapped around Kent's unconscious form as he lay, heavily on top of her.

"Do me a favor and key the winch. It's a red control." Logan told her.

A moment later she found it and the line was lowered.

"This is gonna be close." Logan said to himself, but out loud, as he positioned the craft – as close as he could to the volcano.

"Come one Elf." Logan spoke quietly. "You got one more in ya, I'm sure of it."

Kitty pointed to the line and Kurt nodded, then wrapped his one arm around her waist and pulled her intimately close.

A thick billow of smoke engulfed them and Logan felt the added weight begin to pull of the little aircraft.

When the smoke cleared, sure enough, they were gone.

Logan pulled on the controls and headed for the next closest island.


	18. Brunch with Mutants: Sunset

Kurt paced the beach nervously.

Kitty was sitting nearby watching him pace.

"Are you ever going to talk to me?" She asked quietly and at long last.

Kurt stopped pacing and shot her a brief glance before looking away. "We've been talking since Logan dropped us off."

And it was true. She had told him how Sinister had impersonated Scott and manipulated her while the weapon was affecting her mind. She had left out some of the more cruel details of her abuse of Sinister and, like a gentleman, Kurt had refused to bring up her attempt at cannibalism. She was thankful for that, because most assuredly, she would have eaten Numbskull.

Kitty had even reminded Kurt what Numbskull's true purpose was. Right before he went to 'sacrifice' his 'son' Numbskull, the birdman, had screeched. Kitty had assumed that Sinister had bred him just for that purpose; To be a living counteragent against the WEED.

And Kurt had explained as gently as he could that Kent was not their son, just another deception.

"Right." Kitty looked away.

Kurt sighed loudly and made a set of three toed tracks over to her. He dropped down on to his knees in front of her. He looked exhausted.

"I'm sorry." He shrugged. "I know I'm making this awkward."

Kitty lowered her eyes. She hadn't felt awkward until now.

"But these feelings of mine, especially the old ones …" He smiled at her and she let her vision relax just a but. His features softened and blurred slightly. 

"They are very strong, even now." Kurt continued.

And Kitty saw something odd. She tried to follow Kurt's words but she was distracted. It was like she was looking through him, as though his face was a mask that was wrapped over the real him beneath.

"I have great love for you Kitty. I always have."

Kurt's features began to float and blur but she could see him more clearly than she ever had before. He seemed to radiate the love he felt for her like it was heat coming off his skin.

"And I can't help but feel like … Like the love I have indulged in this week was false or coerced." His head fell slightly to one side. "And I feel guilty." He admitted quietly. "Guilty that I have enjoyed such an indulgence under such pretences."

Kurt grimaced slightly and dropped his eyes.

And Kitty realized what he was saying. He had no issues with his own feelings or emotions. He felt as though he had played with hers!

Kitty took a deep breath, still focusing on the love that she felt coming from Kurt. Then, suddenly, somewhere inside, she gave herself permission to exist beyond words.

And suddenly, Kurt shown to her … _like the sun._

"And I vant you to know that I would _never_, under any circumstances, vant … to _hurt you_."

Kitty took an inadvertent breath.

"Kurt." She whispered, drawing near to him and pressing a finger to his lips. "I haven't done anything that I'm ashamed of. Or anything I didn't want to do." She shook her head slightly and then leaned in close to kiss him on the lips.

Just as he began to respond in kind, the moment was split by the heavy hum of the Puddle Jumper. 

"For crying out loud Elf!_ Give it a rest_." Logan laughed to himself as he set the Jumper down nearby. "As though it's any of my business."

Kitty and Kurt shared a guilty smile and began to head, still holding each other, toward the landing sight.

Epilogue:

Kurt came through the door in a whirl of activity compared to Kitty's staunch and somber mood. Things had been good between them since they returned from the island but now she was unsure.

"You vont believe it!" He said quickly. "The Professor can't help him! He _still_ thinks he's our son."

"Kurt?" She ventured.

"I spent three hours talking to him this afternoon. We had brunch, and he kept telling me things that he _thinks_ he knows from the future!"

"Kurt." She said too softly for him to hear.

"Like, for example, he says that Kelly's Heroes is my favorite movie. I told him I had never seen it, and he says – Oh, vell, it will be your favorite movie someday. - And he just ignores me when I argue." Kurt was unpacking his bag while he spoke. "So they're going to train him, at the mansion." He paused for a second. "Vouldnt it be something if he became an X-man?"

Kitty stirred up her courage and put all her trust in Kurt. She knew that his first reaction would be honest and true. All she needed to do was watch and he would reveal himself and his feelings.

"Kurt." She said softly, catching his attention, and letting him know it was serious and important by her tone.

Kurt stopped and eyed her, waiting.

"Kurt, I've just come from my doctor." She bit her lip slightly, as she had in her youth, before confessing 

"Kurt, I'm pregnant."

She watched him closely for any sign or indication of his mood or feelings.

Kurt seemed almost frozen for the longest moment before … He slowly broke in to a warm, generous and inviting smile.

Then somewhere inside Kurt a familiar joy spun, glided and soared through his soul.

__

A father! I am going to be … someone's father!

And Kitty, healed by Kurt's reaction, was surprised to find herself not only wrapped in Kurt's arms, but also spinning, gliding, and soaring throughout the width and depths of her soul as well.

**__**

The End … For Now.


End file.
